Trauma Team: The Complete Edition
by TwistedJabberjays
Summary: Monarchs dance overhead, blurring the sky with brilliant color. In a hospital two thousand miles away, six doctors are joined together by one goal: to save lives. This is Trauma Team, the complete edition, in fanfiction form. Useful if you forget an important plot detail or quote, or just want to see our take on a particular scene. Now... let's begin the operation!
1. Prologue: Sleeping in Bloom

**Disclaimer: **We (the authors) are not ATLUS, we don't own Trauma Team. Any references to real people are entirely fictitious and just for laughs. And don't sue us for our bad Latin, either.

**Author's Note:** This fanfiction is almost completely based on canon. It's cowritten by Pluvialis and fighterkirby1998, although Pluvialis doesn't do anything.

So...let's begin the operation!

* * *

**Prologue**

_Sleeping in Bloom_

Untouched by the world outside the serene valley, a girl is laid to rest upon a bed of once-orange flowers. She sleeps forever…but she is very much alive.

Monarch butterflies pay their final respects to the sleeping, dead-but-alive girl. Today they will flutter among the blue blossoms, her final resting place, but tomorrow they leave on their migration for America.

Today they find peace and refuge among her cerulean blankets, blissfully unaware of the death they hold within the pollen that dusts them as they fly by, touching their wings to the brightly-colored flowers.

The girl will never wake again. She deserves that much, for even the dead deserve their peace. But one part of Rosalia, hidden deep inside of her, will never be content.

Monarchs dance overhead, blurring the sky with brilliant color.

Tomorrow they begin their journey, scorching the earth with their golden-orange scales.

_Pax Vobiscum._

* * *

Here's a new thing we're trying. If you wish to see the story in chronological order instead of each doctor story, we'll be sticking a blurb at the bottom saying, "For the chronological version, the next chapter is -" or something like that. In this case...

For the chronological story, the next chapter is "24. Gabe: Prologue: Overcast".

(Edited by Pluvialis. This is really the only chapter I write here.)

Ya know what? Since I (fr) spent so much time on these, I'm gonna put my own two cents in.

Anyhow, this is one of my favorite chapters. So short...but so beautiful. I also love Carpet of Blue Death, too. For the same reasons, though that one isn't short. Trust me.


	2. CR S01: Prologue: The Masked Prisoner

**PROLOGUE  
**_The Masked Prisoner_

Portland Prison.

The place of nightmares. The place of cold imprisonment and anguished screams of criminals struggling to get out, to break free, in futile attempts. Grey slabs of stone herd Portland's most notorious and most dangerous convicts together.

At the heart of the prison lies the most secure cell Portland Prison has to offer: an impressive room kept at freezing temperature, with reinforced steel walls everywhere. You can't even see what's going on outside unless if the gigantic doors are slid aside. This cell was built to keep the most menacing criminal behind the bars.

They call him CR-S01.

He lost his memories on the day he was arrested, the day the toxic cloud went and and swept through the halls, leaving hundreds of people dead, their blood smeared on the floor and walls, their hands grappling at the objects they held, in a worthless attempt to keep themselves upright. It stole the breath from the living and turned them into a mountain of corpses - and the police, shocked and speechless, took the only person still alive at the scene, who sits behind the bars now.

Despite his amnesia, he was tried and found guilty. Given a 250-year sentence, he has been sitting behind the doors for eight years, silent and unmoving, trying to recover his memories with no avail.

He thought his life was over. There was no turn for the better. He landed himself in prison for something he wasn't even sure he did. He thought that there was no point in life. He thought that at this point, everything had come to an infinite end.

But he was wrong.

It all changed on that day. The day they came for him.

* * *

"Open the door. He wants to talk to the prisoner."

"What? The guy with the 250-year sentence? I wasn't informed of this."

The two security guards argue back and forth uncertainly, eyeing the huge doors in front of them suspiciously. Their quarrel ends quickly as a man strides up to them, clipboard in hand. Dressed in a black suit and a matching pair of dark sunglasses, Ian Holden works for the FBI and is _not _the type of person one would mess with.

"Here's my authorization from the HSS," he says briskly, handing over the clipboard, tiny, black writing scrawled on its pages, and an official stamp on the mentioned organization. "Any problems?"

The security guards know who he is. They know that messing with an FBI agent can mean serious trouble. With a nod, the two men hurry towards the doors obediently.

"I'm sure he won't say a word," a guard warns him as he steps up to the keypads. "He doesn't remember anything."

The two security guards stand on either side of the doors, in front of identical keypads. Simultaneously, they enter the passcode, very well aware of Holden's cold stare on their backs.

One tense second later, the doors slide back, and Holden's gaze is immediately diverted onto the scene in front of him. The doors are almost twice as tall as the guards, it does make an impressive sight, as they slither into the walls and the icy chill of the frozen cell rushes forwards. Tendrils of mist curls into the warmer air, and Holden steps forwards slowly.

The FBI Agent's eyes take a minute to adjust to the darkness of the cell. Slowly, the black adjusts to gray, and vague shapes begin to emerge out of what was once nothingness. A hunched figure sits on a bench, hands chained to the wall. As the shapes form themselves, a pair of glowing red eyes come out of the dark, staring out into the harsh white light of the prison building. The prisoner's face is covered with an iron mask, with the eyeholes glowing an unnatural red.

Unlike the other prisoners, he doesn't fight for freedom, doesn't lunge at the opening offered. It's pointless, anyways, but one would certainly try. He doesn't, though. Of course he doesn't. He doesn't remember anything.

But Holden does.

"It's been a while," he says quietly.

"What do you want?" the prisoner asks dully, scarlet eyes illuminating the darkness. _All of this could simply be a dream... or a memory coming back to me... is this real...? Dealing with reality is so much harder now... it's impossible to sort the dreams from the real world... _The fog drifting around them doesn't exactly help them either, as it only renders as another substance of an imaginary world.

"You're needed for an operation, in exchange for a reduced sentence," says Holden, getting down to the point quickly, but his voice remains the same. Cold and calm. Icy bitterness cutting into the cell, shattering what little peace that is left between the two men, amnesiac or not.

"You... want me... to operate?" the convict asks, confirming the impossible, not daring to believe it. Sure, he was a surgeon, once upon a time. A very long time ago, before he was accused of a crime he isn't sure if he committed. This only mounts up on the evidence that proves that this is a dream.

"That's right. Here are the details if you want to see them. Take your time and think it over. But remember..."

Holden doesn't walk any closer, but both pairs of eyes settle on one scene: CR-S01's hands, chained together, as they have been for eight years, the light skin stiff and numb from the freezing temperature of the cell.

"You'll never have another opportunity to save lives," Holden finishes.

"Save... lives..." CR-S01 whispers, voice bouncing off his mask and into the ethereal darkness. Somewhere, his mind draws a sliver of a memory from eternity, images of the ones he had killed, then of the ones he had saved, as well. Sitting there, letting the darkness flow around him like a menacing cloak, he softly breathes out one more word: "Again?"

* * *

Chronological version, next chapter: "11. Maria: I: Foul Mood".

(Edit by fk: Word count: 1067)

fr: Whee! CR-S01! Oh, and I hate Holden. A lot. He's just so mean...and yes, I'm being random. I'm allowed to do that. It's, like, in the Constitution. Wait...that was the Declaration of Independence..."Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." Being random makes me happy. Get over it.

fk: But Holden's awesome! "The past is gone, but life continues..." I originally thought that CR's "Life Will Continue" thing came from that line, but then again, there's an OST called Life Will Continue as well... fine, BE THE ONE for you official OST freaks. Meow.


	3. CR S01: I: Frozen In Time

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Frozen in Time_

The transport truck pulls into the parking area at Resurgam First Care, the armored truck an imposing presence against the normal cars of the patients and doctors. An orange Monarch butterfly flutters around the garden, alighting on the flowers caringly planted there. It seems to be waiting to greet the new doctor.

"Get out."

Holden's cold voice snaps CR-S01 out of his daydreams of _doing _something, of finally being free of his cell, of seeing the world outside after almost ten years of his life wasted away in the prison. He stands, stretching out his legs. His mask already sits discarded on the bench beside him, heavy metal dull in the bright light, eye holes blank and unseeing. CR-S01 takes a deep breath. The air is so much fresher than it was in the cell. Finally. He can finally breathe freely.

CR-S01's hands are still cuffed, though no longer chained to a wall. As he steps out of the truck, he raises his hand to shield his red eyes from the scorching sunlight. Even though the sky is not all that bright, it is blinding to the prisoner who has spent the last eight years in a prison cell. CR-S01 stands finally on real earth, feet firmly planted on the ground, squinting up at the sun that shines brightly down on the hospital.

"This is Resurgam First Care," Holden instructs, escorting CR-S01 inside the building. "You'll be operating here."

CR-S01 takes one glance around, at the glass doors, the brick building, the lights shimmering in the distant rooms. This place is not like the one he is used to, with guards at every corner and reinforced walls. So this is the hospital where he'll be operating in. He has to admit, it is a definite improvement from the prison cell/fridge he was in.

CR-S01 steps into the hospital, and Agent Holden grabs him firmly by the shoulder. An army of armed guards follows, waiting to catch the prisoner if he makes any attempt to escape. But he doesn't. Why would he? He's getting his first chance at freedom, and he wouldn't like to go straight back to his cell. The crew reaches the conference room easily, and Holden speaks again.

"The only time you'll be out of cuffs is during the operation," he says strictly. "Remember, this is five years off your sentence. Questions?"

CR-S01's eyes finally adjust to the brightness of the hospital lights reflecting off the bright walls. He flexes his fingertips, rotate his wrists, works out the cramps in his hands. He is now free of the cuffs that have restricted him for eight long years. He looks at his now free hands, and says, "None. I'm just here to do my business."

But before CR-S01 can step into the operating room, a huge black man steps in the way. He wears the hospital uniform, and so is obviously a doctor. He stands over a head taller than CR-S01, and the prisoner takes a small step backwards, intimidated by the big guy's size.

"Hey there!" the man booms in a friendly tone, the voice not quite suiting his rather scary appearance. "Hank Freebird. I'm a doctor here. I'll be your support for this operation. What's your name?" Hank extends his hand to shake, smiling in a friendly way that makes you want to be his friend.

CR-S01 opens his mouth to answer, but Holden cuts in the way, stepping between the two men.

"His name doesn't matter. Let's keep the contact minimal."

Right, CR-S01 thinks. I'm a prisoner. A mass murderer. Why would anyone need to know my name?

"His prison number is CR-S01 if you need to call him anything," Holden continues briskly.

Hank withdraws his outstretched hand. "I see…" he says hesitantly, and after a second, "I understand."

CR-S01 closes his eyes, calming himself. He knows he will be an outsider here. That's not the point. He needs to save lives. That's all he is here for.

"Now get started. We'll be waiting here for you." Holden dismisses CR-S01 to the operation with a cold tone, almost matching the temperature of the cell the prisoner just left.

* * *

"Well then, I'll be explaining the gist of this operation," Hank says. CR-S01 examining the patient's charts carefully.

"I'm told we'll be using an OLCVR for a DCM case?" CR-S01 asks cautiously, frowning at the readouts.

"That's right," Hank confirms. Then, after a hesitant pause. "But… will you be all right?"

"What do you mean by that?" CR-S01 asks. But he already knows what the big guy means. That's the question that has been on everyone who has seen him in the hospital and knows his history. It even has been plaguing his own mind, too. _What if I don't remember anything at all?_

"I heard from the man outside that you have no memories," Hank says with uneasiness in his voice, hesitant to disturb the surgeon, but also needing his question answered. "This isn't just some way to pay a debt. A life's on the line."

_I've killed too many_, CR-S01 thinks darkly_. Too many lives gone. I have to save someone, even if it's just an attempt._

"You don't need to worry about that. Let's operate," he says easily, picking up a scalpel in his agile fingers.

"Well then, let's begin this operation," Hank says, shrugging.

"The patient's vitals are low. Get me a syringe," CR-S01 says briskly, not even hesitating as he begins the surgical procedure.

"The green medicine is the stabilizer," Hank offers helpfully.

_I know!_ CR-S01 thinks, but doesn't waste his words, and doesn't want to offend anyone.

"All right," he simply says, calmly going through the motions. "Injecting the stabilizer into the patient." He does so, and a vial of green medicine disappears into the patient. "We've recovered. Stabilization complete. Next, we must open up the chest. Ready the antibiotic gel."

Hank is amazed by this doctor's personality, one that can turn from a nervous prisoner to a professional doctor in a matter of seconds. He doesn't know which one is the _real_ CR-S01, or if both are the same person, like a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde case.

"We must disinfect the entire incision area to prevent infection," Hank says, trying to keep up with the expert surgeon as he hands over the antibiotic gel.

CR-S01 disinfects the area quickly. "Disinfection complete. Beginning incision. Scalpel."

Hank carefully hands him the scalpel, still not exactly sure whether to give the mass murderer a lethal weapon or not. CR-S01 takes it from Hank's hands, and to the big guy's relief, doesn't use it to stage an escape. Instead, he simply performs a lobectomy on the patient on the operating table.

"Incision complete. Starting now, it's the real deal," CR-S01 murmurs, knowing that a life depends on this.

"We need to find the affected areas," CR-S01 says, quickly adjusting to the procedure. "Ready the ultrasound."

Hank does so. "The affected areas should appear in dark shadows."

"Found it," says CR-S01, seeing the shadowy areas under the tissue. He opens his mouth to give Hank the next order, but the doctor already knows what he needs.

"The yellow vial contains the antiviral drug," Hank says softly, not wanting to disturb the surgeon.

CR-S01 injects it into the dark shadow. "All right," he says, taking a deep breath. "The drug's working. Prepare the scalpel for incision."

"The affected area has been opened," Hank says calmly. Blood wells up from the incision, obscuring the view of the incision.

"Using the drain," CR-S01 continues tirelessly. He drains the blood away quickly, not wasting any time. "Now to suture the wound. I'll need the forceps first…"

"We'll treat the myocardium with the overlapping method," Hank says, making sure the surgeon's memory is complete. "First, pull one side of the myocardium across the incision."

CR-S01 does so expertly, impressing the other man. "All right. One side has been overlapped." He overlaps the other side. "Now two. I'll need to suture the wound before it opens up again…" He does so, quickly stitching the incision closed.

"There should be more," Hank reminds him.

"Don't worry. We'll find them all and treat them," CR-S01 says, with confidence that doesn't seem to fit with the situation at hand.

The two doctors find one more affected area, treating exactly as before, with no problems. The two of them work together…antiviral drug, incision, drain, overlap, and suture. But after finding that second area, the ultrasound draws a blank at revealing any more shadows.

"Get the ultrasound out of my way. It's not helping anymore," CR-S01 orders, readying himself for a more intense operation. Hank does so, but reluctantly. He isn't completely sure the doctor knows what he's doing.

"What do you mean?" he asks, confusion and reluctance in his voice. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"It's a simple fact. The ultrasound can't find everything. Let's palpate the organ directly to find them…" CR-S01 says this without any trace of sarcasm, so Hank has no choice but to believe him.

"You're going to feel the area?" Hank asks, shocked. This type of procedure isn't normally used. "Would that be okay?"

CR-S01 doesn't answer, but literally plunges straight in, finding the remaining affected areas with expert ease. Within a matter of minutes, the surgeon completes his task, using his tools efficiently, and is soon pulling back out of the patient and suturing the opening incision. His first operation at this hospital is finished. Operation: Successful.

Hank seems impressed, thinking that maybe this doctor isn't so bad after all. He _does _know what he's doing, and would be a great asset at the hospital.

But CR-S01 definitely isn't impressed with his own performance_. It's not coming back… Is this… all I can do?_ he wonders to himself, sadly. He can't remember anything about his past life, and wonders if he could actually do better than that.

"What're you talking about? That was great, Doctor." Hank says, smiling, as he normally does to anyone who crosses his path.

Hank's words interrupt CR-S01's thoughts, jarring him from his attempts to remember…anything. He must've been talking out loud, a common habit of spending eight years in a cell. He sighs, not answering Hank. Instead, he just silently finishes up the work to complete the procedure, and begins to walk out the door.

"You saved the patient's life. Thank you," Hank Freebird continues, reassuring the doctor of his usefulness. CR-S01 turns at the sound of Hank's voice, but doesn't say anything. He merely drops his gaze, though whether if it's out of shame, modesty, embarrassment, guilt, or a combination of those, Hank is unable to tell.

* * *

"That was a fine operation, Doctor," Hank says once more after the procedure, amiably slapping the other man on the back. "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything worth being thanked over," CR-S01 says mildly, his voice devoid of emotion, as usual.

"I see…" Hank is unsure of what to say. He hasn't exactly met anyone like this before. And he has almost nothing in common with this lost prisoner, the surgeon with no memories. He feels the need to help, but doesn't know what to do. He decides to give the surgeon another smile, then return to his own work.

After the operation, CR-S01 is carted back to his fridge of a cell once more, the bumping truck ride uneventful and dull. Yet CR-S01 has more to think about. His mind whirls, thinking about operation procedures and his newfound experiences. He is still distracted as Holden cuffs his hands back to the wall. Thankfully, the agent doesn't return the restrictive black mask, and he is free to breathe the chilly air, though it doesn't compare to the free air outside.

"Doctor, huh…" CR-S01 whispers to himself, hardly able to believe that he is finally saving lives again. The world inside the cell plunges into darkness as the doors clash together, sealing him in tightly from freedom forever, or at least until the next opportunity he has to save lives.

* * *

Chronological version, next chapter: "20. Hank: III: Love in the Ground".

BTW, if anyone's wondering why CR-S01's chapter names are all CR S01, for some reason, this site doesn't allow hyphens... so yeah. Substitute with a space.

(Edit by FR: Word Count: 2001)

Me again. *sighs* CR-S01 is so awesome, yet so pitiful...he's my favorite character. Pretty easy to tell. Oh, and if you call me a fangirl, I will kill you. Painfully. With a scalpel.


	4. CR S01: II: Uninvited Guest

**CHAPTER TWO**  
_Uninvited Guest_

_That was a fine operation, Doctor. Thank you. _Hank Freebird's words echo back through CR-S01's head as he sits alone in his frozen cell.

"Life…" the single word escapes CR-S01's mouth as he remembers the doctor's words. _Saving lives._ CR-S01 knows this is what he wants to do with the rest of his life. But that dream has been extinguished by this cold, dark prison.

Suddenly, a grating sound signals the opening of the thick doors to the cell. CR-S01 squints into the bright light, eyes straining to make out who is coming in. Somebody steps into the room, and the door clanks shut again, locking him inside with whoever this is. When darkness settles once more, CR-S01 can make out a figure standing in the room with him. He knows it isn't Hank Freebird…the big guy is easily recognizable by his huge figure. And CR-S01 doesn't think it's Agent Holden, either. So, nobody he knows from the hospital. _Why would someone I don't know be coming to visit me?_

"Yo, kid. Came by to see what you're up to." The tone is bored, lazy, but still, not hostile, which is good.

Definitely not Holden, then.

This man has a sprout of greenish-brownish hair, which turns an odd color in the dark of the cell, and a cigarette stuck in his mouth. Normally, he would look freakish to CR-S01, but he wears a doctor's coat, which settles the prisoner's nerves somewhat.

"Man…" the new visitor raises an eyebrow. He walks around the cell, exploring its dark depths. "I didn't think you'd be living in a refrigerator."

"The temperature is kept at zero degrees Celsius," CR-S01 says, matter-of-factly and without emotion, "to reduce bacteria." After a moment's hesitation, he continues, his tone slightly more melancholy. "And so I can't kill anyone."

"Bacteria cultivation, huh?" the new man snorts, rolling his eyes. "Pseudomonas, vibrio, micrococcus… plenty of bacteria can be grown at this low temperature."

"Hmph," CR-S01 grunts. But it's true. There _are_ plenty of bacteria that can be grown at this temperature. He wonders why the FBI didn't realize this before, then decides that it doesn't really matter. He's still stuck here. "And you are…?"

"Gabriel Cunningham. I'm in charge of the guy you worked on." The man answers, still exploring the cell.

Gabriel Cunningham… now that he turns, CR-S01 can see the start of a ponytail at the back of his head. Such a ridiculous haircut.

"I want to consult with you about something," he continues, pacing the small cell. His fingers drag along the wall, but leave no marks on the harsh metal surface.

"Consult with me?" CR-S01 is really unsure of whether this is reality or a dream. Because nobody in their right mind would want the medical opinion of the murderer of hundreds of lives. Of course, this Gabriel Cunningham didn't _have_ to be in his right mind.

"We've got a patient with tumors similar to Kaposi's sarcoma," Gabe explains, turning to the prisoner. "Skin, lungs, small intestine. They must be excised at once. How about it? Do you think it can be done?"

CR-S01 muses over this for a second, thinking about how _he_ would do the operation. He decides on an outcome. "There's not enough information to make a conclusion… But depending on the patient, I wouldn't rule it out entirely."

"Is that so?" Gabe asks, his tone cheery. "All right, it's decided! Let's go!"

CR-S01 stares at the crazy doctor, obviously confused. This would be a dream come true for the doctor…but it can't possibly be real. "What are you talking about?" he demands, his voice a mix of emotions.

"The operation," Gabe explains, rolling his eyes at the denseness of _some_ people. "You'll be performing it on that patient."

"Me?" CR-S01 says, astonished and overjoyed, but not letting it into his voice.

"What's wrong?" Gabe asks mockingly, grinning. "That's why I came out to see you."

* * *

Back at the operating room. Back at almost freedom. CR-S01 takes a deep breath, then steps into the sterile room, a wash of memories from his last operation flooding over him.

A single woman stands in the operating room, awaiting for CR-S01's arrival. "Ah… Come on in," she says in a brisk tone. "You're late."

She has short brown hair that doesn't even reach her shoulders, instead fitting around her head like a helmer. Her glittering emerald green eyes stare accusingly at the new arrival. CR-S01 knows that this woman isn't as friendly as Gabriel or Hank were. She wears a long, low-cut green and yellow jacket and insanely short jeans. Definitely not a doctor's uniform. Interesting…the prisoner just stares at her.

In a way, CR-S01 almost preferred Holden over the new girl. _Almost._

"You are…?" CR-S01 asks calmly, not letting his first impressions of the other doctor get in the way of his focus on the operation.

"Maria Torres," she replies curtly, no trace of a smile lighting up her face. Maria is not someone who easily smiles. "I'll be assisting you this time."

She checks the panel of instruments lying on the table, readouts on screens vying for her attention. "You've heard the details, right? Read the charts, too."

"All right…" CR-S01 hesitates, not sure how to handle this new…_problem?_

Suddenly, Maria's big green eyes shoot up. She gazes accusingly at the new doctor, staring back into his red eyes. "I've seen you before," she whispers, her voice almost menacing. "Have we met?"

"I hear this is a tough condition to deal with," CR-S01 says carefully, trying to steer the conversation back towards the operation at hand. Even if the woman _had_ met him before, he would have no way of knowing.

"Hm? Yeah, you're right. Let's start the operation then!" Maria says, still rather distracted, trying to place the new doctor in her memories. The two of them gather around the operating table, preparing to begin the operation.

However, what Maria and CR-S01 didn't know is that the two of them have a connection that neither of them know about. Something that brings their two stories together in unimaginable ways Something that is the key point of the entire Trauma Team. Yes, the relationship between CR-S01 and Maria Torres connects through Rosalia Rosselinni, the dead girl in the carpet of blue flowers.

"The focus of this operation is tumor excision," Maria says, repeating what the charts said. "But…" She trails off uncertainly.

"But?" CR-S01 questions, trying to get more information about the operation.

"Well, it's odd. Infections like this aren't all that rare. Even so, we can't pinpoint exactly what's causing them." She says, unsure of if what she's saying is correct.

"What do you mean?" CR-S01 asks, intrigued by a mystery. "Have you done a blood analysis?"

Maria gives a sigh, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling in exasperation. "Please… of _course _we did. Do you think we're stupid?" She huffs. "Nothing showed up on the CRP, antibody titer, or WBC count. Other tests came up with nothing, too. We're stumped."

"That is indeed odd," CR-S01 admits, racing through possibilities in his head.

"Well, hopefully this will be an uneventful op," Maria says cheerfully. "Let's begin."

Of course, if you ever say that something will be uneventful or easy, you can count on something unexpected happening.

CR-S01 plunges into the operation, his hands expertly wielding the tools with precision. He immediately notices the skin tumors discoloring the skin. "Gabe, that is, Dr. Cunningham, said it's like Kaposi's sarcoma," he says. Then, remembering that the tests came up negative, "Who knows what it actually is, though."

"The foci show discoloration, like malignant melanoma," says Maria, giving her opinion on the situation. "Let's begin by treating the skin. Prepare the laser."

The operation passes flawlessly for the first part, the skin and intestines easily treated without a single problem, lasering the foci with ease.

However, when the doctor cuts open the first large tumor in the lungs, Maria gives a huge gasp, stepping back from the table in shock.

"Wh-?" she asks, dumbfounded, on the verge of swearing (as she often is). "It's not a tumor! Is this… mucus?"

"This doesn't change our treatment," says CR-S01 calmly, not letting any surprise show. "Let's continue. Using the drain on it."

The mucus is soon drained, and CR-S01 finds several more pools of mucus. He treats them without hesitation, but after the fourth one…

Black shadows suddenly creep onto the lung, entwining it within the long, shadowy fingers, almost like fingertips gnawing away at its new organ to toy around with. They move, like living creatures, and have an air of malignant evil about them.

"What is this…?" Maria gasps, horrified by this new turn of conditions. This is something that she has never seen before in her years of medical work, and even could be something that has never happened in the history of medicine before. "Some kind of… bruise?"

CR-S01 doesn't say anything, but stands speechless, shocked. _This bruise… _he thinks, puzzling over it in his mind. _I recognize it… it's something… from my past…_

"Hm?" he says distractedly. "That bruise…"

Suddenly, his red eyes open wide, staring at the bruises, and his mouth contorts into a tortured. "Ngh! Gh… aaaaaaah!"

Maria tells herself to not panic, even though her greatest instinct is to run for help. "H-Hey! What's wrong! Are you all right?"

_No! I'm not all right! _CR-S01 screams in his head, knowing that something is _wrong_ with these…bruises. But in reality, he can't let Maria know how disturbed he is by this condition. He could never be allowed to operate again, as unstable as he is. So, instead, he says, "Ngh… I-I'm all right…! Continuing with the operation!" He steadies his shaking hands and continues with the operation.

_This cannot be happening! This… this…_

CR-S01 shoves his fears down below himself and continues the treatment, trying to ignore the curling strands of black bruises distracting him. The bruises… are moving. He knows that he has seen something like this before…some past dark memory nags at his mind, vying for his attention.

With horror, Maria and CR-S01 simultaneously realize that the mucus is moving too. Maria swears under her breath, surprised, and a tiny bit scared by this new turn of events. The dark shadows embrace the organ, wrapping their tendrils of dark around it, seemingly wanting to suck the life out of it. CR-S01 fights the urge to throw up. But he keeps going, the thought of freedom echoing in his head, keeping him calm and steady in his movements.

When the last tumor has been treated, the bruises shrink and disappear, almost instantly vanishing back to whatever dark world they appeared from. The organ returns to normal and the two doctors give silent sighs of relief. CR-S01 tiredly finishes the operation, trying to ignore the memories that attempt to surface.

"All right, let's close the patient up and finish this off!" Maria says, glad that the operation is finally over. Then she remembers something. "Hey… How did you know how to treat those things?" She frowns suspiciously.

"I don't know," is CR-S01's simple reply. "That black bruise… I've seen that somewhere before…" He trails off distractedly.

"Where would you see something that weird before?" She snorts in derision. Even _she_ hasn't seen something that crazy before. What she doesn't know is that sooner than she thinks, she'll be seeing more of those bruises than she would ever want to see.

CR-S01 purposely ignores this question, because he doesn't know the answer himself.. "Let's finish the operation. Get the antibiotic gel ready."

Maria knows that it's better to not push him to his limits; the mystery of the black bruise was definitely worth waiting for, but a doctor fainting in the middle of an operation isn't.

* * *

"Huh… that was quite a show," Maria says after the operation, sizing up the other doctor. "Looks like we can trust you."

"I'm just doing what I was brought here to do," CR-S01 replies evenly, just glad that he managed to complete the operation.

"Sheesh, aren't you fun to be around?" Maria snorts in a mocking tone. "Take a compliment!"

CR-S01 shrugs off Maria's words and walks out of the operating room. The truth is, why should he have fun? He killed hundreds of people. He has to atone for his sins by saving lives…and that's not something to joke about.

To CR-S01's surprise, somebody stands out in the hall, waiting for him to finish the operation.

"Yo… how'd it go?" Gabriel Cunningham asks interestedly. The other doctor waits, hand outstretched. CR-S01 moves to shake it, but at the last minute, Gabe pulls his hand back, and snorts at the prisoner's confused expression. _Some people are so gullible…_

CR-S01 shows no emotion, and merely says, "All the tumors have been extracted. It's an unique condition, so keep her fully monitored." He gives as little away about the mysterious bruises. That might be something that he should keep to himself for now.

"You're leaving now? That's pretty irresponsible." Gabe says, frowning.

"I'm a prisoner," CR-S01 says, a hint of anger and frustration in his normally calm voice. _Can't people just realize that without rubbing it in?_ "I can't do anything else from here."

"Well… not exactly," Gabe admits, a smirk crossing his face. CR-S01 immediately stiffens. He's not sure whether he's going to like what Gabe is going to say or not. "You're responsible for that patient until she leaves!"

CR-S01 steps backwards in surprise, and almost runs into another figure standing behind him in the hall.

"I heard that you will be in custody here for a while." The voice didn't come from Gabe or CR-S01, but Maria Torres, who has been standing in the hall the entire time, listening to the two doctors' conversation. "Let me tell you that I'm firmly against this decision." She says in a bored tone.

Like CR-S01, Maria's personality changes in different situations. In surgery, she seemed like she actually cared about the patient, about if the fainting doctor could finish the operation, about the black bruises. But did she care in real life? No way.

"Your new room's over there," Gabe chimes in, before any real hostility could grow between the two doctors. "It's barred, but it's no icebox. We'll be counting on you to help us save lives here, kid."

CR-S01 just stands there in shock, watching the two doctors walk down the corridor and disappear. _Saving lives…_maybe his dream has finally become a reality.

"Satisfied?" The cold voice says, a hint of hostility in his voice.

Outside of Resurgam, Agent Holden stands on the walkway, staring at Gabriel Cunningham, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

"Are you kidding?" Gabe snorts, rolling his eyes. "I need to see how he does before I decide. Besides, his entourage is a pain in the ass, too."

"What do you mean by that?" Holden asks, knowing full well what the diagnostician means.

"Don't treat me like an idiot, G-Man," Gabe says, smiling, but with hostility etched on his face. "I see a lot of new faces around here. Curious faces."

Holden's eyes narrow behind his sunglasses. "Doctor, we're-"

"Whoa! I try not to get involved in other people jobs… let's just agree not to interfere with each other. Got it?" Gabe says, and, not waiting for the other man's response, brushes past the agent and back into the hospital.

"Thanks for your cooperation," Holden spits sarcastically. _Gabriel Cunningham will pay for this…_

* * *

Alright, fk1998 has to go, so she'll upload the rest of them tomorrow when her mom is out of the house! ^.^

Chronological version, next chapter: "40. Naomi: III: Behind The Lies".

(Edit by FR: Word Count: Umm...around 2581 or so)

This, and the conversations in Proud One, have to be my favorite Gabe moments.

Da black bruises...*zombie-walks* Pay attention to those...it'll come in handy later.


	5. CR S01: III: History of Fear

**CHAPTER THREE  
**_History of Fear_

In the conference room, Gabriel Cunningham and two other women wait patiently (not) for their acquaintances to arrive. After a few minutes, the door bursts open, revealing the huge figure of Hank Freebird, and sulking behind him, CR-S01.

"Hank!" A woman with her hair tied up in a bun shrieks. "What were you doing? You're late!"

"Chief… um…" Hank's words come in gasps. "Sorry I'm late…"

"And you're all out of breath, too," Gabe notices, being the diagnostician he is. "Odd. Where were you?"

"Um…" Hank seems lost for words as sweat trickles down his face. "Out in the garden."

"The courtyard, huh?" Gabe replies. "What's your take on this, kid?"

CR-S01 knows when it's him being called. "It's a lie," he declares. "The courtyard is less than 30 seconds away. Even if he'd run from there, he wouldn't be breathing this hard."

"Hm…" Gabe murmurs, as Hank slowly recovers his breath. "Where were you really, Dr. Freebird?"

"Ugh… well…" Hank really doesn't know how to get out of his situation.

"Enough!" The Chief's words come to his rescue. "I know you're all friends, but playtime's over! Let's begin the conference!"

The other girl, a Japanese doctor with flowing black hair, speaks up. "About 10 minutes ago, a Ferris wheel collapsed in Oakdale. We're receiving four patients, one of whom is severely injured. The patient's name is Charlie Malone, a 39-year-old male. He has a steel beam in his abdomen and needs surgery stat."

"So we have his ID," Gabe muses. "Has his family been notified?"

"That still needs to be done," the Japanese girl declares. "Gabe, I'll leave that to you."

Tomoe Tachibana looks young and carefree, but in her heart, she follows the Path of Honor. That means discipline, and doing what is right.

"Now, about that surgery itself," the Chief takes over, but Tomoe interrupts.

"Chief, if I may?" she asks.

"Eh?" Chief Esha Patel says. "What is it, Tomoe?"

"Why not ask him to perform the procedure?" she suggests, pointing at CR-S01, next to her.

CR-S01's head doesn't move, but his scarlet eyes move over to the very corner. "Me?" Him, out of everyone? An outsider? A _prisoner?_

"I've seen the video of his operation," Tomoe continues, as if CR-S01 hasn't spoken. "He's better than us. Severe organ damage is anticipated, and we'll need his skill."

"I did see him in action," Hank supports, his breath coming in evenly now. "I agree. He's amazing."

"Well then," the Chief decides. "It's decided! We'll count on you, kiddo."

CR-S01 doesn't say anything, only stares ahead and tries not to think of the future to come.

* * *

"Please move! Make way!" Doctors' shouts and urges to move immediately pave a path in the crowd. Out emerges a man being wheeled to the operation room, mask covering his face.

"Blood pressure 60 over 34, GCS's 3-3, blood type O+! Secure a blood transfusion line and get him to Room A! Let's move! You! GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

In the meanwhile, in another hall, Tomoe and CR-S01 are walking along to the operation room.

"Please, listen carefully," Tomoe says. "This will require several steps. I will monitor the transfusion, so watch the patient's vitals." Tomoe notices the hesitation in CR-S01's eyes. "Doctor? Is something bothering you?"

"I'm not worried," the young doctor says. "It's just…"

"Just?" Tomoe whispers.

"How we handle this crisis will affect the hospital's name," CR-S01 struggles. "Is it all right to trust this to an outsider like _me?"_

"You've let your short time here mislead you in understanding us," Tomoe says, her eyes closed. "You aren't regarded as an outsider anymore, Doctor."

"What?" CR-S01 asks, confused.

"You've already saved two lives since you arrived here," Tomoe says, smiling. "All of us believe in our hearts that you'll save this man."

"Believe…" CR-S01 mumbles softly. Tomoe's words echo in his mind. _You'll save this man._

_I have to do it, _he realizes. _I must._

"Let's go," he says immediately. "The patient seems to have arrived!"

* * *

"The extraction of the foreign object is a delicate procedure," Tomoe informs her doctor. "I, Tomoe Tachibana, will be supporting you in this task."

"Let's get to it," CR-S01 says. "We'll save this patient, no matter what!"

However, those words evaporate when the patient goes under cardiac arrest within the first five seconds of operation.

CR-S01 activates the defibrillator immediately, and the patient is brought back to life with a grunt. He immediately begins suturing the cuts, and most importantly, pulling out a huge beam in the patient's chest. Glass, wires, and other foreign objects are found in the organ as well, but CR-S01 only thinks of the patient's life hanging on the line, and sucks it through. It's hard working, and swear trickles down his head, but within minutes, it's an operation success.

_Too tiring, _CR-S01 thinks. _But this is the price for freedom. _

* * *

"… Operation complete."

CR-S01's voice echoes from the command room at Resurgam First Care.

"Thank you for your assistance in the procedure," CR-S01 continues. A row of screens flicker to life as they show a variety of scenes around the hospital, notably CR-S01 and Tomoe Tachibana.

"He's really something…" Maria Torres admits, her arms crossed. Beside her, Agent Holden and the chief watch. "Like a machine… Seriously, that kind of skill is just incredible." After a moment's pause, when neither of the two people in the room has responded, she asks, "Right?"

"Hmm…" Holden doesn't really say anything, merely looks at a phone in his hand.

Maria walks over to observe, and gives a small laugh. "Is that your daughter?" she exclaims, looking at the picture onscreen. "She's a cutie!"

"That's right," Holden grunts.

"It's good she didn't take after her dad!" Maria says, a grin finally taking place on her face as she chuckles at her own joke. "How old is she?"

"She… would be fourteen now," Holden says, ignoring Maria's cheery change of personality completely. "If she were still alive," he adds hastily.

A moment of shocked silence, and then the chief speaks up. "When did she pass away?"

"She was killed in a bioterrorism attack," Holden says quietly, no hint of discomfort in his voice. "Eight years ago."

"Eight years?" Maria asks immediately, her laughter long gone. "Don't tell me…" Familiarity of this echoes in everyone's minds. Everyone knows of this bioterrorism attack. "Oh… sorry…" Maria apologizes a bit after.

"It's in the past now," says Holden.

"That incident at Cumberland College," the chief says, referring to the incident.

"My wife taught there," says Holden. "She passed away with my girl."

"Hey," says Maria. "Did they ever find who was responsible?"

"Yeah," says Holden, but there's no trace of pride in his tone. "I caught him personally. Don't you recognize him? He's standing right there."

Confusion quickly turns into shock as Maria finds out what the agent is talking about. There, flickering onscreen, is the newbie, the prisoner, the criminal, _the murderer._

CR-S01.

"A-Are you joking?" Maria gasps. "He… _he did that?"_

"A side effect of the gas," Holden responds. Every screen is now filled with CR-S01's picture. "It erased his memory. But he was found guilty in a court of law for it."

"That…" Maria seems lost for words for a while. "That _bastard!"_

She immediately runs for the door.

"Huh?" the chief asks, finally coming to reality. "Hey! Maria!"

It's too late. Maria Torres is long gone.

* * *

CR-S01 is surrounded by a cacophony of voices, doctors and Tomoe congratulating him on his latest patient. He doesn't want to hear it, only wants to go back to his room and think, peacefully, about his situation right now. But some people won't let him – especially Maria Torres.

"Hey!" she yells, storming down the hall in which he is in. "You convict _bastard!"_

CR-S01 turns around, but before he can fully look at his predator, Maria launches onto him, her motorcycle gloves clutching his pale white face. "Is it you? Did you do it?"

Her spit flies in CR-S01's face, and they're nose to nose. Maria is yelling beyond measure now, unleashing her full fury onto the criminal doctor.

"What are you talking about?" CR-S01 asks, very confused.

"Are you responsible for Cumberland College?" she demands. "Tell me!"

CR-S01 gives a gasp and his heart skips a beat. His scarlet eyes slide over to the right corner and he quietly says, "I've already been put on trial for what happened there."

"Dammit!"

Maria swears and shoves CR-S01 to the ground.

"So what, then? Have you been _lying _to us all this time?"

Yells arise from the doctors around CR-S01 to have Maria let him go, and Tomoe rushes forwards to help him up. However, the chief is the only one who takes action, and grabs Maria firmly, almost like a bear hug. A dangerous bear hug.

"You're a doctor, dammit! We swore an oath to _do no harm!"_

Maria continues yelling, taking no notice of the chief trying to calm her down, or trying to drag her away.

"Dr. Torres, calm down!"

"Dr. Torres, let him go!"

"Dr. Torres, stop shouting!"

The tide of voices rise up, but the chief's is louder than any of them. "Maria! Stop that!"

"You can't remember, huh?" Maria continues, yelling in CR-S01's face. "Screw you! Start remembering! Remember what you did, damn you!"

Maria is quickly dragged away by the chief, her yells of anger rebounding off the sides of Resurgam's yellow walls. Tomoe and CR-S01 are both on the floor, unsure of what to do.

"Um…" Tomoe is at a loss of words.

"I'd like to return to my room," says CR-S01 quietly, not looking up from the floor. "Could you escort me there?"

* * *

Next chapter in the chronological version: "13. Maria: III: Mournful Hero".


	6. CR S01: IV: Waking From Terror

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**_Waking From Terror_

Alone, CR-S01 sits in his new room, or cell. It's barred and his hands are still chained, but like Gabe said, it's no refrigerator.

Refrigerator or not, CR-S01 is silent and still, only looking down, reflecting on Maria's words. _Screw you! Start remembering! Remember what you did, damn you! You're a doctor, dammit! We swore an oath to do no harm!_

In CR-S01's mind, gears whirl faster than ever to keep up with his thoughts. _Is Maria right? Do I deserve to be a doctor? Do I?_

In his deep thought, CR-S01 doesn't even realize that Hank Freebird's hulking form is observing him through the bars of his cell.

"It's a request for surgery," he says. "Is he still not… uh…"

"It's a waste of time even speaking to him," says Holden.

"Hm." Hank doesn't give up, only looks at CR-S01. "Why are you turning your back on everything?" he asks. "Look, if you'd just say you aren't the culprit, we'd all…"

CR-S01 has considered replying, but at the word _culprit, _he decides to stay silent.

But Hank remains there, and CR-S01 decides that it's no use staying silent. It's better if he could share his thoughts with someone.

"When I came to…" flashbacks play in CR-S01's mind. Visions of people lying on the tiled floors of Cumberland College, squirming and wriggling, dying, or already dead. "When I came to, all I saw was a mountain of corpses," he continues shakily. "They were gone. Hollow eyes… blood everywhere…"

He shakes himself out of his mental hallucinations. "I… may have been the one that killed them," he whispers.

"And you're fine with that?" Hank loses his temper and bashes a fist against the metal bars that guards the prisoner from him, but in this case, the other way around. "You know for sure that it was you? You're just running away! You can't hide from the truth!"

Hank's words are just as ugly as Maria's, but CR-S01 doesn't feel the same bruising he felt when he first heard them.

"I've had enough," he whispers. "Please. Leave me alone."

"Ugh! You fool!" Hank gives the bars one last kick and storms off. The whole time, CR-S01 hasn't budged from his position, head still down, scarlet eyes glistening with the verge of tears.

Sunset falls, a ray of golden orange light falling into the cell. The sun is bright orange, and beautiful too. But this world is too beautiful for the young prisoner.

"I've brought your meal. Please eat at least some of it…"

Tomoe's words penetrate CR-S01's thoughts. Out of all the doctors at Resurgam he's met, Tomoe is among one of his favorites. He decides to talk.

"It was all just a dream," he says, irrelevant to the conversation.

"A dream?" Tomoe asks, trying to sympathize.

"I'm a prisoner. I'm different from everyone else. That's all there is to it."

Tomoe's shock is absorbed quickly, and she quietly slips out of the room.

* * *

"So, Doctor, what do you think of him?" Holden asks. The agent and Gabe are out on the roof, having yet another talk about CR-S01. It's daytime, and both faces are directed towards the soft blue sky and the puffy white clouds that float above them.

"What do you mean?" Gabe asks. "The kid's one heck of a surgeon."

"I've been watching him a long time," Holden sighs. "I can't believe that he's the one who did it."

Gabe turns from the landscape view and onto Holden. "That's an odd thing to say," he says. "You're the one who caught him."

"All we do is catch criminals," Holden says. "We don't decide their fate." _Especially 250-year-sentences, _he thinks.

"That's very noble of you," Gabe snorts. "So what do you want from me?"

"I think you'd agree, you and I have a lot in common," says Holden. "Look, we transferred him here hoping his memory will return. I'd really like your help in our investigation."

Gabe's chuckle echoes among the chirping of birds outside. A cigarette falls from his mouth and onto the ground, and he takes a step towards the door to the roof. "Screw that. You and I are _nothing _alike. I'm not an idiot who'd force a doctor without passion to operate."

The door slams shut, and he's gone.

* * *

In the drizzling rain outside the next day, chaos has erupted at Resurgam. Emergency patients; again.

"Where's Dr. Torres?" the chief yells.

"She went to get Dr. Cunningham!" another doctor replies back.

"Have everything ready in five minutes!" the chief yells again. "Tell the other doctors to prep for the operation!"

Those shouts and yells of urgency fade into nothingness as CR-S01 sits in his cell. However, this time, he knows when his next visitor comes.

"Did you come to laugh at me?" the prisoner asks. Holden is standing at the bars of his cell.

"I didn't hear any jokes," says Holden. "Sorry, not my sense of humor."

"It's alright," says CR-S01. "I heard your wife and daughter were…"

"Don't get me wrong," Holden growls. "I'm only here 'cause it's my job."

"What?" Holden's answer catches CR-S01 off guard.

"The past is gone, but life continues," says Holden. "My wife fought to the end to save all her students. Just as the doctors here are fighting, even now. But you… what are _you _doing?"

Shock displays in CR-S01's eyes as his head moves up for the first time in days. Words… it's amazing, how the power of words can give someone such an emotional boost. _What are you doing? _CR-S01 asks himself that question, and comes up with nothing.

He remembers his words, days and days ago. _Save… lives. _How is he going to save lives sitting in a hole? Holden's words have are fierce, but somehow have a touch of kindness in them. _The past is gone, but life continues. _Maria's words are long gone, forgotten in the midst of confusion and twists. Life will continue, but only if CR-S01 is there to do it. Holden's next words bring on the golden promise.

"You're cleared for surgery."

CR-S01 doesn't even look at the new clipboard, only feels a rush of joy erupting in his heart, the dawn of a new start, a new beginning, a new life.

"You ever dream about saving lives?" Holden continues, but there's a glowering tone to it. "Now's the time to start."

"Dream about… saving lives?"

"Cry if you want to, it's all part of growing up," says Holden, leaving the cell, but he also leaves behind is encouraging words.

* * *

"Careful with the anesthesia! It's a Hardy procedure!" Gabriel Cunningham yells at the nurse.

"Yes, sir," the nurse replies gingerly. This isn't the playful Dr. Cunningham she knows. This is the serious, downright Dr. Cunningham.

Gabe pauses halfway in his next order as CR-S01 steps in the way. "Doctor."

"You…" Gabe straightens from his task and looks at the new arrival.

"Please let me do the operation," says CR-S01, a gleaming look in his eyes. "Please… let me save this life!"

Gabe grins. "The room is yours, Doctor."

* * *

"We're dealing with Wermer's syndrome here, got it?" Gabe preps. "First, the pituitary glands, then pancreas and abdomen!"

"Understood," says CR-S01, but his mind is only half paying attention to Gabe's words. The other half is absorbed in the joy of holding a scalpel once more.

That joy evaporates faster than Gabe can light up a cigarette. Within moments of finishing up the pituitary glands, CR-S01 withdraws from the operation field to find red spots covering the patient's skin.

Almost like bruises.

_Black bruises._

"What… are these?" he chokes out.

"Hm?" Gabe's attention diverts to the red spots. "Oh, just blood spots. They'll go away after this."

CR-S01 doubts that, but says, "Understood. Beginning pancreas operation."

The pancreas operation passes flawlessly, without the disturbance of creepy, crawling, moving black bruises. However, hemorrhaging arises in the abdomen.

Blood pools are quickly drained away, tumors extracted, hemorrhaging spots cured. But then comes the real stumper of the operation: the needle falls in.

"The needle fell in?" CR-S01 exclaims in shock, watching the last silver sliver of the needle disappear from view. "Dammit! Why at a time like this?"

Vitals are at 43. Without the needle, the patient would be flat out dead in a minute.

"We don't have much time! The patient won't last long!" Gabe declares.

_As if I didn't know that already, _CR-S01 thinks. But that's quickly wiped aside as he tries to settle for a plan.

"Set the ultrasound wavelength for multiple analysis!" he instructs Gabe.

"The ultrasound?" Shock is clearly displayed in Gabe's voice. "What's that gonna do?"

"The needle's metal," CR-S01 explains. "It'll appear as a shadow if we scan!"

"All right," Gabe sighs. _This is one tough kid, _he thinks. "The ultrasound's ready! Let's hurry!"

Fifteen seconds later, a reaction shows up on the ultrasound, and the needle is removed.

CR-S01 finishes the operation. "Operation complete."

"Whew," sighs Gabe. "I was pretty worried for a moment there. Close up the operation field, and we'll be done."

"I see the blood spots are gone," CR-S01 notices, looking at the patient's blissfully white skin.

"Yeah," Gabe agrees. "It's all thanks to one skilled surgeon!"

_No, _CR-S01 thinks. _It's coming back to me, slowly. Those blood spots… are not normal. And it's more than what Gabe thinks. _

* * *

After the operation, CR-S01 is surprised to find Gabe's outstretched hand waiting for him.

"Here," says Gabe.

CR-S01 is hesitant, but reaches for the hand anyways.

However, at last moment, Gabe pulls the hand back. "Ha!" You're such a sucker, kid. No, but I mean it… you're really something amazing."

Gabe exits the room, leaving CR-S01 very confused behind.

He's about to get even more confused. As he leaves the operation theater himself, CR-S01 finds another guest waiting: Hank Freebird.

"That was an amazing operation," he says. "Thank you."

_Like you've said that a million times already, _CR-S01 thinks. Then, _oh, good. I'm not talking out loud anymore._

"It's alright," says CR-S01 carefully, not letting his thoughts ramble.

"Come!" Hank says, his anger from the past few days all gone, melting back, leaving the old, friendly, outgoing Hank Freebird behind. "I'll escort you back to your room."

CR-S01 doesn't say anything.

"Something wrong?" Hank asks.

"No," says CR-S01, dragging himself away from his mountain of thoughts, including the blood spots. "Let's get going."

"Hey, would you mind coming somewhere with me first?" Hank asks. "I gotta run some papers down to emergency."

CR-S01 raises his head.

"You can lock a man up," Hank continues, "but you have to respect his warrants. Especially if it's something honorable."

CR-S01 agrees, almost reluctantly, but goes with Hank anyways. A few minutes later, they have arrived at a grand room that looks like a church more than a hospital.

"Here we are," says Hank. "What do you think of the building? Seen better days, huh?"

"I suppose so," is CR-S01's solemn reply.

"This is the old ward," Hank introduces. "The rest of us moved into the new one… but emergency's still here. Do you know why?"

"No…" CR-S01's red eyes aren't looking around, taking no interest at the room, but taking in every detail of the carpet.

"The people here wrestle with life and death every day," says Hank quietly. "They're under more intense pressure than most can imagine. It can make them sensitive to serious issues about life."

"Yeah," CR-S01 says. Life. The word holds a completely new, alien meaning to him now.

"Somehow, I doubt they'll move to the new ward," Hank says, and laughs. CR-S01 doesn't completely get it, but doesn't speak up about it either. "Now go on."

CR-S01 steps inside, and finds none other than Maria Torres. Anger still hasn't faded from her voice yet, and her dark brown hair is messy. Professional as always.

"Um…" CR-S01 is unsure of what to say.

Maria notices his presence, but doesn't look at him. Her head remains tilted to the wall. "If you have Hank's papers, you can drop 'em there," she says.

"All right," says CR-S01, relieved that she hasn't taken to a yelling at him yet.

However, Maria is yelling at the wall instead. The thing she has been working on seems to be an electricity panel, and it doesn't seem to be working. The lights suddenly flicker off.

"Ugh… piece of crap!" Maria screams. She kicks the wall and the lights suddenly sparkle to life. "What's the use? This ward's such a pain…"

_Anger and swearing issues, _CR-S01 realizes.

"Is it too much to ask to have working lights?" she keeps yelling.

"I see," says CR-S01, eager to get out of there. "That's… uh… unfortunate."

"Huh?" Maria seems to have just realized that CR-S01 is still standing there. "You still need something?"

"No," says CR-S01 hastily. "It's nothing. Sorry."

He turns to the door and opens it to leave, leaving Maria's aura of temper tantrums behind.

"It wasn't you, right?" Maria's soft, calm voice stops CR-S01's steps outside the door. "You're not the one behind the terrorist attack, are you?"

CR-S01 turns around and finds that Maria has finally turned to look at him.

"You have no memory, but you just wanna scream it out," Maria continues. When CR-S01 doesn't reply, she adds, "Am I wrong?"

CR-S01 only gives a sigh.

"That's how I was when I was a kid," says Maria. She suddenly leans her head against the wall. "I think I lost my temper the other day. I'm sorry."

Maria's apology greatly surprises CR-S01.

"N-No," CR-S01 stutters. "I…"

"Anyway, I know you aren't a murderer," says Maria genuinely. "At least, I don't think you are. So let's drop it."

"Why are you being so…" CR-S01 is thoroughly confused with the doctor's personalities, along with everyone else's.

"Ugh." Maria shakes her head and begins walking towards CR-S01. "Hey, I got a lot to do here, you mind?"

"Huh?" CR-S01 asks. "Wait! I'd still like to…"

His words are cut short when his foot steps on a wrench of some sort, causing Maria's temper to burst aflame.

"Tch!" she yells. "You bastard! What the hell did you break?"

"I didn't mean to!" CR-S01 shouts back. "I was just…"

"If you'd just quit moping, it wouldn't have happened!"

"No!" CR-S01 yells in anguish, trying to get Maria to understand. "My personality has nothing to do-"

"Dammit!" Maria swears. "Just SHUT UP ALREADY before I punch you again!"

CR-S01 stumbles from the room with not only a bruise marking his left forearm, but an even larger one surrounding his heart as well.

* * *

The next chapter of the chronological story is: "38. Naomi: I: Locked-Room Mystery".


	7. CR S01: V: Blade of Resolve

**CHAPTER FIVE  
**_Blade of Resolve_

The sun shines brightly down on the gleaming white hospital, and the songbirds chirp cheerfully away in the garden bursting with flowers. However, inside Resurgam First Care, everything is not as happy and cheerful as it seems from the outside.

"Everything has been documented in the files before you," CR-S01 concludes his presentation. He stands at the front of the meeting room, completing his summary of his time at Resurgam. His time of working at the hospital is finished. It's time to go back to living in his prison cell. "Please increase the bromocriptine dose to 6 milligrams. And that concludes my report."

Applause and sniffles are heard from the audience of doctors and nurses watching the presentation. The crowd files away out of the room. Tomoe, Hank, and Esha Patel wait, wanting to bid the surgeon one last goodbye.

"Thank you, doctor," the chief says warmly, her ever-present smile wider than usual.

Hank steps up and wraps CR-S01 in a humongous bear hug, almost crushing the prisoner. Unlike Maria, who never showed any liking for him, Hank was one of CR-S01's new friends at Resurgam. Tears trickle down the big guy's face as he says, voice choked, "It was a pleasure working with you. Don't forget us."

"Yeah," CR-S01 quietly answers, knowing that he, too, will miss the other doctor, and all of his work at Resurgam. Sadly, he walks out of the room, leaving his new life behind.

* * *

Later, Gabriel Cunningham stands underneath the bright blue sky over the Resurgam roof, staring out into the distance. Another figure materializes behind him, silently standing on the roof of the hospital. "Goin' back to your fridge, huh?" Gabe doesn't need to turn around to see who has joined him on the roof.

"That's right," says CR-S01, but this time, there's an edge of humor in his voice, unusual for the prisoner.

"14 operations, that's 26 years off your sentence," Gabe calculates, seeing how CR-S01 will respond.

The surgeon looks up, at the sky, at the birds flying free. But freedom is something he'll never have, never experience. There's no way he can live out a 250-year-sentence, even with the reduced years.

"That doesn't interest me," says CR-S01 grimly, knowing that Gabe is trying to elicit a reaction from him.

"Hey, throw me a bone or something," says Gabe, rolling his eyes at the seriousness of the other man. "Cheer up, will ya?"

_Never, _CR-S01 thinks. _Why?_

"My sentence is 250 years," CR-S01 quietly says. "I have 217 left… Maybe if I were a monad I'd live out my entire sentence."

"Is that a joke?" Gabe asks, not knowing how to react. "I don't know if I should laugh…" And then he laughs, because Gabe is always up for a joke, even if it is really lame.

CR-S01 is surprised when Gabe stretches out his hand amicably, waiting for him to shake it.

"Don't worry," Gabe assures him, smiling. "I won't pull it back or anything…Take care of yourself."

"Yeah," answers CR-S01 quietly, not knowing how to respond to this show of affection. "Thank you for everything."

CR-S01 reaches for Gabe's hand, ready to shake it, but the moment before they grasp together, a loud whirring sound shatters the moment.

A red and white helicopter appears above the roof, slowly descending to land on the helipad. Maria's familiar green and yellow coat leans out of the pilot's window, dangerously close to falling. She shoutis words CR-S01 cannot hear over the racket the helicopter makes. He strains his ears, however, and manages to catch a faint sound of the words before they're carried away by the tremendous wind.

"Gabe!" she shouts, struggling to be heard.

"Huh?" Gabe squints up into the sky. "Maria? No one said anything about a transport! What happened?"

Maria doesn't answer that question, but her next words explain the situation. "Her condition is critical! She was hurt in a bombing!"

"A bomb?" Gabe shouts, smiles all gone now. He scowls up at the helicopter. "You idiot, we can't treat her here!" he yells.

"Why?" CR-S01 demands, stepping up behind Gabe and also staring up at the helicopter. "She needs to be admitted for emergency surgery!"

"Third degree burns means a debridement and a skin graft!" Gabe turns, shouting into CR-S01's face. "We have no tissue to transplant! How can we operate?"

CR-S01 thinks for a second, and then, much to Gabe's surprise and anger, shouts, "Maria! Lower the patient!"

"You idiot!" Gabe yells back to the prisoner. "What're you saying?"

"We can do it without skin grafting," CR-S01 clarifies, rushing through the procedure in his head. "I can save her!"

"You?" Gabe snorts derisively. "But your stay here is over! Look!"

Gabe points down off the roof at the area in front of the hospital. Police sirens blare, and the tiny figures of FBI agents and police officers rush around, talking into walkie-talkies and looking anxiously up at the roof.

"They're panicked!" Gabe says, staring down at the chaos below. "They think you're making an escape!"

"No!" CR-S01 says, insistent now. "I'm not turning my back on saving lives anymore!"

"Dammit…" Gabe sighs, taking one last look at the crowd below. "Alright, but whatever happens, don't blame me…" His head rises towards the waiting helicopter. "Maria! You heard the man, lower the stretcher! Hurry!"

* * *

"FBI! Get out of the way!"

"Excuse me! Please move!"

"Don't move! This is the FBI!"

The angry voices shout at whoever stands in their way, insisting that anyone hindering their path needs to move, _now_.

The door to the roof bursts with a loud bang. The FBI agents flow out onto the roof, guns raised, pointed at…

Gabriel Cunningham stands on the roof, hands raised in defeat. But beside him, CR-S01 is nowhere to be seen. Agent Holden stamps angrily out onto the roof, scanning the vast area for any sign of the prisoner, but with no luck.

Gabe acts as if he has been waiting for this. "You mind?" he asks, as sarcastic as always. "This is a _hospital, _fellas. Keep it down."

Holden cocks his gun and points it at Dr. Cunningham, glaring at the diagnostician. If looks could kill, Gabe would be dead ten times over by now. "Doctor, where is he?"

"I'm not armed," says Gabe, purposely avoiding the subject. "Go point that thing at someone else."

"His approved time at the hospital is up," says Holden fiercely, angry with the doctor for his refusal to cooperate. "Understand? Don't do anything to make his situation worse."

"Holden, you and I are alike, after all," Gabe laughs, shrugging his shoulders as if only the two of them are on the roof, instead of the 10-odd FBI agents pointing their guns at him. His lightheartedness still exists in a situation like this. "We both do whatever it takes to get the job done."

Gabe steps slowly backwards, as if retreating. But his foot steps off of the roof, and he falls backwards, slowly spiraling backwards, falling down to the cement below.

One by one, the guns retreat as the FBI tries to recover from this latest accident. _If the media heard about this…_Holden thinks, debating the possible situations that could arise from this. However, there's no sound of a scream, no sound of a smack on the pavement below, only the sound of…a chopper?

_Oh no, _Holden realizes what is going on a split second before a red and white chopper rises from the air below, now level with the roof. Gabriel Cunningham leans out of the open door of the helicopter, grinning triumphantly at the FBI agents, his cigarette clenched between his teeth. He waves a friendly goodbye as the chopper rises out of sight.

"Dammit!" Holden curses. He thinks over what to do, then issues his orders. "Pursue them! Request backup and stop that chopper!"

* * *

In the ancient emergency ward, a silver-haired woman sits on a bench, eyes tightly squeezed close, her lips mouthing a silent prayer. She clenches a black cell phone in her palm, her fingers grasping at it in desperation. But Naomi Kimishima isn't afraid for herself. The story of how she comes to be clenching her cell phone in Resurgam's old ward will come much, much, later. (Fine. If you're THAT impatient, go see Naomi Kimishima: Crime of Passion)

"Don't worry." CR-S01's words interrupt Naomi's thoughts as he passes her on the way to emergency room. "I promise that I'll save her!" Then, determinedly, he steps past her and briskly walks down the dark corridor.

* * *

"We need as many men as the local police is able to spare!" Agent Holden screams into his radio, scanning the skies for any sign of activity.

"It's the chopper!" Holden's pilot suddenly cries, his voice distorted in the speakers. "We intercepted their in-flight radio!"

"Connect me to it!" Holden commands. "Right now!"

Tomoe Tachibana's voice crackles through the connection. "… Must use extreme caution. Ready for briefing, Doctor?"

"Yes. Please begin." CR-S01's voice echoes back and forth in Holden's mind. His knuckles turn white with anger as he clenches his fist, actually wishing CR-S01 were here right now so that the agent could punch him in the face.

"They're operating in the chopper?" he yells, his face turning red with fury. "They'll _kill _the patient!"

* * *

_Third degree burns. Blood pools. Hemorrhaging. Glass. Lacerations_.

These words echo in CR-S01's mind as he switches between his surgical tools.

_Sutures. Syringe. Antibiotic gel. Forceps. Drain. Scalpel. Ultrasound. Laser._

The doctor is easily treating the skin wounds, suturing, draining, and stitching with expert accuracy. Soon, the girl, whose name is Alyssa Breslin, is nearing the completion of the treatment. But then, just as the doctor finishes with the area he is currently working on, another disaster strikes.

"Cardiac arrest!" CR-S01 roars, barking orders at the other personnel around him. "Charge the AED!"

"Yes," Tomoe says worriedly, charging the AED, hands busily checking all the tools. "But why did she go into cardiac arrest?"

"There's no time for questions!" CR-S01 cries, hurriedly reaching for the newly charged paddles. "Using the defibrillator!"

Just as CR-S01 reaches to release the charges stored within the paddles, another disaster strikes. With a crackle and flickering of lights, all electricity in the ward cuts off, plunging the room into darkness.

"There's been a blackout!" Tomoe cries. "Please halt the procedure!"

With the patient still under cardiac arrest and no electricity to revive her, this situation is definitely _not good._

"Ngh…" CR-S01 sets down his scalpel and rests his head in his hands. "Of all times…_why now?"_

* * *

Gabriel Cunningham's yell echoes in Maria's ears as she pilots the helicopter over the dense forest. She stares intently ahead, trying to ignore the cries of anger resounding behind her.

"What's with the tunnel?" Gabe demands, clutching to his seat, face pale white, fighting the urge to throw up. "You mind flying a bit higher?"

"Stop complaining, dammit!" Maria snarls. "Any higher and they'll find us!"

"Can you hear me?" Gabe barks into a radio, trying to recover from the nauseating helicopter ride. "We got some distance from Resurgam!"

"Is the voltage check ready yet?" CR-S01's voice comes out of the radio set installed in the helicopter.

"Vitals are dropping!" Tomoe adds. "She's in critical condition!"

"Tch!" Gabe scowls, staring down at the speaker in irritation. "Looks like they're havin' a rough time."

"Crap!" Maria swears, and the helicopter tilts dangerously to the right. She pulls it back up to a level height, and finds that they've been surrounded. Black choppers slowly descend from the sky around them, encasing them in a dark shield.

"Dammit," Gabe curses, glancing out of the windows around the cockpit. "Now what?"

"Doctor, I assume you can hear me." Agent Holden's voice comes out of the radio in Gabe's hand as two choppers fly above them. "Drop altitude and land your helicopter _at once!"_

"This isn't good," Gabe sighs, frustrated, but not unduly worried. "Looks like this is it…"

Maria lands the chopper obediently, guilt and fear gnawing away at her heart. However, she knows that she has to cover for her the prisoner as he tries to save the girl's life. She still has one last trick up her sleeve…

"Doctor, the game's over. Give him to me," Holden commands, once on the ground. He steps out of his own helicopter, glaring at the two disobedient doctors.

"The game's over?" Gabe smiles, trying to refrain from bursting into laughter. "Give you… who? Maria? Do you know what he's talking about?"

Maria grins widely, showing a flash of white teeth against her tanned skin. "Ha! Yo, old man, this chopper's for material transport. I don't think what you're looking for's on board." She smirks.

Anger flashes through Holden's eyes as he makes the connection, the flaw in his logic. He stomps over to the helicopter and yanks open the chopper's door. He glares inside, his eyes angrily scanning the interior.

It's empty, just as Agent Holden expected.

"Three minutes since cardiac arrest!" Tomoe's voice is somewhere in the room, but her body is clearly not present. Only her voice is. Holden scans the room, looking for the source of the voice.

"It's not over yet!" CR-S01 declares, voice resonating through the helicopter. "I'll massage the heart! Hurry up!"

Holden finally sees the source: a speaker dangling off a wall of the helicopter. His eyes grow wide and he spins around to his crew of agents.

"Get back in the helicopter!" he shouts, racing back to his chopper. "He's still at Resurgam!"

* * *

Da next chapter in da chronological version is: "42. Naomi: V: Seeking Atonement".

(Edit by FR: Word Count: Um...2200-something)

ALYSSA! Yeah, that's important later, too. Unless you're doing chronological version, in which case you already KNOW what happened. *sighs* Random person reading this, you confuse me.


	8. CR S01: VI: Waking Heart

**CHAPTER SIX  
**_Waking Heart_

"Dammit!" CR-S01 curses, struggling to revive the patient by massaging the heart. "This is the old ward, but I didn't expect this! Cardiac arrest, four minutes! Still no power?"

"Not yet!"

"Dr. Freebird should be at the power room by now!" Tomoe cries, watching CR-S01's useless attempts to bring back the patient's pulse. In a quieter voice, she murmurs, "Dr. Freebird…"

* * *

Dr. Hank Freebird runs down the ancient corridors of the emergency ward. He reaches the door that leads to the power room, and he immediately spots the problem: two wires dangle from the ceiling, broken apart, sparks flying from both ends. They should be connected, but they aren't.

Without hesitation, Hank runs up, grabs both wires, and roars out as volts of electricity crosses through his body. His hair stands on their ends and his eyes bulge, but it doesn't matter. As long as he stands here and holds on, there should be power.

And there is.

* * *

"The power's back!" Tomoe cries, as the lights flicker to life above them. "Charging the AED now!"

"Hurry!" CR-S01 demands.

"AED charged!" Tomoe says. "Doctor, please begin resuscitation!"

"All right!" says CR-S01. "It's not too late; she can still be saved!"

One blinding flash of light, and Tomoe declares, "We have a pulse!"

"Her organs must be damaged," CR-S01 muses. "Don't tell me… did the bomb…?"

"We need to open her up to confirm," says Tomoe. CR-S01 obeys.

However, one second after he makes the incision, Gabriel Cunningham's voice comes from the radio.

"Resurgam, can you hear me?" he demands. "It's me, Gabriel."

"Hmm?" Tomoe seems confused for a bit, but recovers. "It's a radio transmission from the helicopter!"

"Sorry, but we ran into some trouble," says Gabe briskly. "They're heading back. Once they surround that place, you'll never get to finish. You've got about 10 minutes. Get it done in that time, okay?"

"Doctor!" Tomoe says to CR-S01. But he already knows.

_Now there's a time limit on top of everything, _he thinks. _Better get started._

"Focus on the operation!" he says. "Let's keep treating her!"

Lacerations. Organ damage. Glass. The last step is to reform the rib cage, and CR-S01 does that.

The liver still has its own problems, but just as CR-S01 plunges in with his scalpel, a radio transmission interrupts him. Again.

"This is Gabriel," the radio cracks. "You don't need to answer. Just listen. There's no time. This is our last message. Listen carefully… Kid, let Tomoe take over the operation and _get outta there."_

"What?" CR-S01 asks.

"Oh, and…" Gabe doesn't answer CR-S01's question, but says, "You did great, y'know? You're really an awesome surgeon."

"I'll take over the procedure," says Tomoe. "Please. You need to go."

"Hand me the size II Pean," CR-S01 says, ignoring Gabe's command completely.

"Doctor, there's no time!" Tomoe cries. "You need to-"

"I'm _not _running away," says CR-S01. "I always run, from whatever sins I may have committed… I won't run anymore, from the lives I hurt, or from the ones I can save."

"Doctor…" Tomoe takes one second to make up her mind. "Let's continue the treatment. We have to hurry!"

Lacerations. More of them. But CR-S01 treats them, and just when he thinks the operation is over…

"There are abnormalities in the EKG!" Tomoe cries. "Incoming cardiac arrest! It's a big one…"

_Flatlining… _CR-S01 thinks.

"No!" Tomoe yells. "Please, resuscitate her!"

CR-S01 charges the paddles, but her pulse doesn't return.

"It's not over!" CR-S01 states fiercely. "She can still be saved! Increase the voltage and charge it again!"

"AED is set!" Tomoe says. "Please, watch the gauge's speed!"

CR-S01 tries one more time, with no success.

"It's no good," Tomoe whispers. "Her pulse still isn't returning!"

"One more time!" CR-S01 demands. "Don't give up!"

"She's flatlining," Tomoe says, but CR-S01 ignores her.

"Alyssa, please!" he cries, and for a split second, Tomoe wonders if he's gone crazy. "Youv'e got the whole world ahead of you! You're not alone! Teach me… what it means to live!"

CR-S01 pushes the paddles firmly against her skin, and this time, he knows that it'll work.

"Her vitals… have returned," Tomoe whispers with a touch of relief. "This…"

"Right," says CR-S01. "Operation complete. Let's close her up!"

* * *

Agent Holden and his FBI freaks pad down the corridor leading to the operation room. However, only one person stands in their way: Hank Freebird, sooty and tired. The two glare at each other in the eye for a total of three seconds before Holden says, "Get out of the way."

"There's a procedure going on," says Hank evenly, trying to ignore the presence of three guns cocked and pointed at him. "No one's allowed to enter."

"I have a job to do," says Holden, an edge of anger and impatience in his voice. "Get out of the way, or I'll use force!"

"That'll be enough." Tomoe Tachibana's voice comes from behind Hank, who turns around, surprised. "Please move aside, Dr. Freebird."

"Dr. Tachibana…" Holden recognizes the young woman, but recognizes the one standing beside her even more.

"The operation was successful," says CR-S01. "I won't run or hide from you."

Holden gives a sigh of disappointment. "How ironic you throw everything away, all to save a patient… Take him away."

Tomoe and Hank step up to say goodbye, but before they get the chance, two FBI agents block their way and lead CR-S01 away, with the two doctors' goodbyes still hanging on their lips.

But what they didn't know is that fate will one day bring them all together again, because CR-S01's story hasn't finished yet. No, it's only the very beginning.

* * *

Next chapter of chronological version: "43. Naomi: Epilogue: Journey's End".


	9. CR S01: Epilogue: Go in Peace, Sinner

**EPILOGUE  
**_Go in Peace, Sinner_

Alone.

Back in his cell. His fridge. His home for the remainder of his life.

Those short days at Resurgam were among the best days of his life – no, they _were _the best days. But they all lie in the past now, every memory, every friend. Hank. Gabe. Tomoe. Even Maria. They're gone, just like his memories, cruelly stolen from his life forever.

Questions slur around CR-S01's mind. The black bruise. The familiar memories going back to him. None of it makes any sense, and the answers will soon fade away to nothing.

His hands are chained to the wall again, never able to wield a scalpel again. Always bound, never free.

CR-S01's eyes close as a single Monarch butterfly flutters past his cell, towards freedom, a gift the young doctor will never get.

But even though one story has ended, another is beginning. This isn't it. This is just the end of the prologue, and the prelude of the life-changing experience to come. The beginning of the epic tale that will, one day, bring CR-S01 back to freedom once more.

* * *

Well, that's done, isn't it? I'm going to upload Maria's story in a sec, gotta get this up first.

Miss CR? Don't worry, I do too. But he appears a few times in the next few doctor stories and comes back for da big finale in Patient Zero!

Next chapter in chronological version: "23. Hank: Epilogue: Only A Hero".


	10. Maria: Prologue: Spitfire

**PROLOGUE  
**_Spitfire_

The only sound that can be heard in Maria Torres's home is the sound of flames crackling, fire spitting embers and sparks to keep itself alive.

The sound of a telephone ringing interrupts the spitfire, and Maria emerges to answer it. She only wears a towel around her neck, having just come out of the shower. Her normally flat hair is jagged and wet, and her eyes aren't as piercing as normal. She holds her scarlet telephone in hand, talking rapidly.

"Maria Torres here," she says, her voice absent of the anger she usually uses. "Oh, hey Chief."

The Chief doesn't say any greetings, but gets down to business straight. "Maria! A fire's broken out on 14th. Get there, and hurry!"

Maria's rare calm features disappear quickly and her common angry ones slide in. "Huh? Why're you calling me? I'm off duty."

"Everyone else is out right now!" the Chief barks. "Stop complaining and go!"

Maria might be a jerk, but she cares about lives and knows when one is at stake. "Tch! All right, but I'd better see a bonus next payday!"

* * *

"Okay, let's do this!" Maria grins as she hops onto her shiny motorcycle. With a roar, she speeds down the highway, looking for the pathetic firefighters as they try to struggle along without Maria Torres's help.

Why? Maria isn't just better. She's the _best._

* * *

Maria is... off her rocker. Now, whoever can write a fanfic on what would happen if CR-S01 or Tomoe just did what Maria did (the motorcycle part) then… I dunno. You get free cookies?

The next chapter in the chronological version: "2. CR S01: Prologue: The Masked Prisoner". Yep, we're going waaaaay back.


	11. Maria: I: Foul Mood

**CHAPTER ONE  
**_Foul Mood_

The fire reaches Maria's nose and eyes, and both water in the smoke. This isn't the controlled fire in Maria's home; this is the real deal. The house is on fire, covering every inch of flammable surface. Flames leap and dance, threatening Maria to come closer.

"Hey, you!" Maria yells. "Has everybody been rescued?"

The paramedic Maria had been shouting to looks up from his stretcher. "Who the—" he starts, but never gets to finish.

"I'm with Resurgam First Care!" Maria yells. "Tell me what's going on!"

"A fire broke out in the power facility!" the paramedic groans. He's heard of a rampaging woman wearing a yellow and green coat, one who always loses her temper. "It's being contained…"

Suddenly, a loud bang echoes from within the house. Maria doesn't hesitate and jumps to the nose, ignoring the paramedic's shouts to stop her.

"What happened?" she asks, once she's reached the source of the explosion.

"We had a backdraft!" a paramedic answers. "Two of the people inside were hit by it!"

"They need immediate treatment!" Maria shouts. "Move them over here if you can!"

The paramedic follows her orders. _Maybe they aren't dumbasses after all, _Maria muses, and out loud, says, "All right! Beginning treatment!"

Both patients have burns, easily taken care of. However, convulsions occur on the second patient, and Maria pushes in an airway. Easily done, and the first patient follows.

"All right," Maria whistles. "All done!"

"Hey! You!" a paramedic yells at her.

"Huh?" Maria replies. "Oh, are you guys done here too?"

"Who do you think you are, barking out orders like that?" the paramedic demands. "Disasters require strict adherence to the chain of command! If you disrupt the team's coordination, you're hurting us!"

Anger quickly surges over Maria's body. "What. Did. You. Just. Say?" She begins to quiver in anger. "I was called here because _you _obviously couldn't handle—"

Her words are cut short by something wavering behind the paramedic, whose next words are drowned out in fright. A purple mass stares right at Maria, like a ghost out of place. Maria blinks, trying to clear away the hallucination, but it only turns the purple thing into… a girl.

Maria's eyes widen at the sight of the little girl in a white dress. White hair, pink eyes, mouth open in words she cannot hear.

Maria blinks again, and the girl turns back into a purple mass. Then, an ambulance roars down the lane, blocking Maria's view to the girl, or whoever she is. However, when the truck disappears, the girl is gone.

This isn't natural. This is something done by causes Maria doesn't know what. A ghost? An illusion? A simple hallucination brought on by the recent fire? Maria shakes her head to clear it and focuses back on the paramedic.

"Hey, have you heard a single word I've been saying?" the paramedic spits. "You're not helping… you're a nuisance!"

"Shut up!" Maria bares her teeth in anger, and kicks the paramedic in the place where it hurts. "Damn right I'll order you around!" she yells. "I'm the best one here! If cooperating is so important to you, then do what I say! Later, asshole!"

Maria hops on her motorcycle and disappears from view, leaving the paramedic sprawled on the ground, and shaking away the last few images of the mysterious girl… somewhere in Maria's subconscious, the girl calls to her, but those quite murmurs are lost quickly in the roar of the engine.

* * *

Well, Maria's stories are frankly going to be short, but trust me, when we get to Patient Zero and that 14-patient mass (Missing Girl, do not confuse with Wandering Girl, Naomi's second chapter), I'll make it long. *bares teeth*

Oh, and catching_fire, I'm just typing whatever happens in the game. And believe me, Maria's Story will be... filled with swear words.

The next chapter in the chronological story: "27. Gabe: III: Moving Heart".


	12. Maria: II: Maximum Annoyance

**CHAPTER TWO  
**_Maximum Annoyance_

"Well done, Dr. Torres!" Nurse Emma says brightly. Maria doesn't say anything behind the operation table, merely looks at the young nurse with empty eyes.

"Yeah… thanks," she says after a while, when it was clear that Emma wouldn't leave without her at least saying _something._

Emma leaves, satisfied, and Maria is alone in the OR. Or is she…?

Behind the green-tinted glass walls of the room, Maria can see another figure taking shape in the air. Immediately, Maria knows what – who – it is.

"I saw you the other day…" she murmurs. "Wh-What're you doing here?"

Rosalia Rossellini's lips form one word that Maria doesn't catch, but she can tell by lipreading. "Beginning? What're you talking about?"

"Hey, Maria," says Gabe suddenly, entering the room. The sliding doors part for him to enter, and as they shut closed, Rosalia is gone. "Got a sec?" he continues.

"Y-Yeah…" Maria whispers absentmindedly, green eyes wide as she watches the girl disappear.

After a few moments of no comments in between the two, and Maria, as still as a statue, Gabe speaks up again. "Uh… Earth to Maria…"

"Wha…" Maria's face scrunches into a scowl again. "Never mind! You want something?"

"Yeah…" says Gabe. "How'd our new guest do? Think he'll help?"

"Sure," says Maria, the words slipping out of her mouth without permission. "He's fast and precise. I don't see a problem."

"Hm," says Gabe, glad for the words. "Well, I guess that means he passes."

"Hey, Gabe," says Maria softly, off-topic.

"What?" Gabe asks in a tired tone, although he's faking it. "I don't have any spare cash on me…"

"That's not it!" Maria scowls angrily. "Um… N-Never mind."

"Huh?" Gabe asks, confused. "I could get you a prescription for tranquilizers…"

"Don't make fun of me!" Maria cries. "Forget it! I'm fine!"

"Are you?" Gabe asks mockingly, looking down at the shorter doctor.

"Damn right!" Maria yells in his face.

"Okay then," says Gabe, shrugging and pulling back from Maria's angry eyes. "I've got some work for you."

"What?" Maria asks, surprised.

"A Ferris wheel collapsed in Oakdale," says Gabe in a light tone, but by the word, Maria gets angrier. "A chopper's waiting."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner, moron?" Maria exclaims, running for the door. "I'm going!"

Gabe watches her disappear out the door, grinning like an idiot. "Don't trip over your own feet!" he calls behind her.

* * *

When Maria reaches the scene, everyone is waiting for her.

"What kept you, Dr. Torres?" Darnell yells. "Come on!"

"Sorry!" Maria yells, not wasting her breath to explain about Gabe. "Take her up!"

"Let's hurry!" Darnell says, leading her over to one of the patients.

"I see," says Maria, observing the two patients before her. "This one's got some broken bones. The other patients need to be looked at, too."

Maria resets the bone quickly, but before she can set a splint, the other patient needs help.

She switches to the other one, and her heart drops cold. "Urgh… this isn't good. A piece of the frame went right through him…"

"Hey, I've got the hydraulic cutter!" Darnell calls. "We can cut the metal out with this!"

"You god damned _idiot!" _Maria screams in his face. "Don't touch him!"

"B-But removing the foreign object should be our priority in this case," Darnell says.

"Oh, yeah," Maria mutters. "This is totally a textbook procedure. _Shut the hell up! _Just get outta my way and be quiet unless I say otherwise!"

"What?" Darnell exclaims. "Fine, whatever!"

"God damn amateurs," Maria mumbles under her breath. "Always wasting my time!"

A few seconds later, another patient arrives, who comes choking with the words, "My son is still in there…"

"What?" Maria asks, and then sense settles in. "Hey, make sure the paramedics know that!"

"Understood!" says Darnell, thankful for something to do other than sit in Maria's flaming temper for the whole time. "I'll contact them immediately!"

After sitting through a long time of gauze, membranes, blood transfusion, and assortments of other treatments, all of the four patients have been stabilized.

"Whew…" says Darnell. "That was close. Well done, Doctor."

"No it wasn't," says Maria shortly, disappointed in herself. "I should be better than this!"

* * *

"Okay, take her up!" Maria shouts, and the chopper lifts off to send more stabilized patients to various hospitals around the area. "Next!"

One screen immediately catches Maria's attention: one screen, showing cardiac arrest, vitals flatlining.

"The patient's entered cardiac arrest! This isn't good!" Darnell informs her.

_As if I don't know already, _Maria thinks darkly.

"Check for a pulse!" another voice chimes in. "Get the epinephrine ready!"

"Idiots!" Maria yells at the two doctors. "There's no time! Start CPR!"

With a grunt, the patient's vitals are back up.

"You dumb asses!" Maria yells at the assembled doctors. "We don't have any time to waste here!"

Darnell has to hold her back from assaulting the "idiots". "Dr. Torres, please stop!" he says.

* * *

"Ugh…" Maria grunts, once the emergency is gone. "Everyone's so god damn _useless! _We'd all be better off without morons like them!

"Please, calm down, Dr. Torres," says Darnell exasperatedly.

"Tch!" Maria snorts. "You're too damn soft on them. You got a problem with how I do things? _GO WITH THOSE LOSERS!"_

Maria stomps off, leaving Darnell confused behind.


	13. Maria: III: Mournful Hero

**CHAPTER THREE  
**_Mournful Hero_

Maria sighs in the emergency ward.

"Doctor!" calls Emma, suddenly appearing at the door with Darnell at her side. "How was your day?"

Maria unconsciously turns to face them. "Oh…" she says. "Uh, yeah, what's up?"

"I worked really hard today!" says Emma, but she sounds cheery. "So Darnell said he'd treat me to dinner! You wanna come?"

So that's why she's so happy.

"I offered to take her," Darnell admits, "but she keeps inviting people…"

"Uh…" Maria scratches her head. "Sorry, I'll pass. Good for you, though. Eat up."

Emma isn't satisfied. "_What?" _she says in an upset tone. "Do you have other plans, Dr. Torres?"

Maria thinks for a while, unsure of what to say? Does she have plans? No. Does she want to come? No. Why not? That's the answer Maria is trying to get.

"C'mon!" Darnell thankfully comes to the rescue. "Let's not bother her anymore. Let's go, Emma."

"Oh, all right," says Emma reluctantly. "See you later, then!"

The two leave the emergency ward.

Once the shuffles of feet have passed Maria's earshot, she mumbles, "This is _so _not like me…"

* * *

The next day, Maria lies on the roof, staring up at the blue sky, thinking about Rosalia and morons.. She prefers to be alone, but obviously, Hank Freebird has to come and join her.

"Now, this is new," he says. "Something bothering you?"

Maria's eyes close and her mouth twists itself into a grimace. "Leave me alone, big guy."

Hank doesn't leave, but sits down next to Maria, who takes his lead and also sits up.

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence pass by, and Maria speaks up. "Well, um… this is just me thinking out loud…"

The afternoon sky turns orange as sunset approaches, yet Maria and Hank are still on the roof, and Maria, naturally, is still talking.

"Seriously, we'd all be better off without all these morons. Why can't people get it through their heads that I'm right?"

"Why are you so focused on being right?" Hank asks.

Maria sighs and gives a nervous laugh. "This might sound dumb… but I wanted to be a hero."

"A… hero?"

"Yeah," Maria mutters, her eyes still closed, but her mouth isn't grimacing anymore. "When I was 14, I accidentally started a fire at my orphanage. I was smoking in the bathroom and it got out of control…"

"Hmm," Hank grunts.

"But while I was running away, I heard a voice crying," Maria continues. "I ran back and saved her. I didn't even think twice about it."

"What's wrong with that?" Hank asks. "You saved a life. That's _good."_

"What's so good about it?" Maria replies bitterly. "I'm the one who started it, remember? Still… the kid I helped kept thanking me, over and over…"

"Hmm."

"That's all she said," Maria chuckles. "'Thanks.' Stupid, but it made me happy. And that's when I made up my mind."

Maria stands up, eyes facing the orange clouds floating above. "I decided that I'd be an awesome hero who would save people!"

Hank sighs. Sometimes Maria can be… a bit odd. "Have you stayed in contact with the child you rescued?"

"Huh?" Maria grumbles. "Oh, that reminds me, I heard a letter came for me. I've been so busy that I haven't had time to get it."

This excuse may sound likely if the letter came last week, but no, it didn't. The letter came _years ago._

"I see," says Hank, about to break the news to her. "There's an important point you're missing."

"Huh?" Maria asks, her pride dented slightly.

"There's a limit to what even a hero can do by himself, or herself," says Hank. "A hero acting his or her own only acts in vain."

Hank stands up and leaves the roof. Maria, confused, whirls around to face him. "H-Hey!" she cries. "Hank, what's the matter? You're leaving?"

"Yeah," says Hank, to the roof door. "I'm going back to my room."

The door slams shut.

"Tch," Maria mutters. "What's with that guy?"

* * *

That night, Maria is back at her home, mocking Hank's voice. "_A hero acting on his or her own only acts in vain… _Psh! To hell with that!"

Maria throws a vase at the wall, and it shatters. Maria glares at the vase for a few seconds, but a split second later, she's looking at something else.

The purple thing, appearing right in her home. Finally, Maria gets a chance to look at it up close: a wobbling figure with no definite shape, in a humanoid shape. Three small lights come from the upper part of her body: two eyes and a mouth. In the middle is a red splotch, almost like blood…

"What, you again?" Maria snorts. _First, the fire. Then, the OR. Now… here?_

"What the _hell_ do you want from me, huh?" Maria continues, blinking rapidly at the image that doesn't go away. Suddenly, the purple disappears and flickers into the girl… _her. _A shining figure with long, white hair and sad pink eyes. She wears a white dress with pink strings or ribbons or something dangling off the top… muttering the same word. "Ha, that again? Beginning? WHAT'S BEGINNING? Stupid… I'm sick and tired of all these idiots!"

Maria blinks a few times, but the figure doesn't disappear. "Go away!" she yells. "Get out of here!"

If anyone had been in the room with her at that point, they would've thought that she was crazy. But to Maria, she's not crazy. Not insane. Not even close to it, but if this girl keeps appearing… soon, she will.

Rosalia Rossellini fades away, and Maria slouches back into her armchair. Then, a sudden shaking and rumbling attacks her home. "What the?"

Maria runs to the window that overlooks Portland Bay, only to see a flaming wreck in the middle of the water. "Did some god damn numbskulls run their ship aground?" she mutters darkly, before racing off to her motorcycle.

* * *

"Move it!" Maria orders. "I'm from Resurgam First Care. I'll take over here."

"Don't be stupid!" one paramedic yells, hoisting a body from the water. "We need to cooperate to save these people!"

"I'll be fine!" Maria snarls. "I can handle these patients myself! Go over there!" She points to the rest of his crewmates.

The paramedic sighs, knowing that he's dealing with Maria Torres, who can lose control of her anger and run him aground. "All right," he sighs. "We'll leave them in your hands!"

He runs off, thankful that he still had all of his body parts.

"Screw you," Maria mutters under her breath. "You'll just get in my way, you boneheads!"

* * *

Maria often has a habit of talking to herself during operations, talking her thoughts out loud, telling herself instructions. That's a simple mark of no assistants helping her, very much like CR-S01 and his absence of humanity in his cell.

Right away is a drowned victim, which Maria revives with CPR. Another one has his arm tied off with a tourniquet, and even more have their shares of injuries. Two more people are fished from the ocean, and Maria soon has a total of five patients to treat.

One patient's respitory tract is blocked, and Maria is forced to use a ballpoint pen to act as a drain and a box cutter as a scalpel. Another one goes into cardiac arrest, whom Maria revives immediately. More or less, soon the patients are all stabilized and sent to Resurgam.

A drenching rain has settled over Portland, which quenches the fire somewhat, but does little to help Maria and her flaming temper. Halfway across running in between patients, she trips over something and falls.

"Hey, are you alright?" a paramedic asks.

"Don't touch me!" Maria growls. "I'm fine! I can handle myself!"

"Don't push yourself so hard!" the doctor says. "Hey! Someone help get this guy out!"

The last ambulance pulls off with a shriek, and Maria is left alone to cower on the deck, the rain drenching through her coat and jeans, leaving her sullen and icy inside. "Dammit… dammit… _dammit… DAMMIT!"_


	14. Maria: IV: Hesitant Spirit

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**_Hesitant Spirit_

Maria and Gabe sit together in the chopper, with Maria at the pilot's seat and Gabe at the co-pilot's. While Maria is trying to keep the craft airborne, Gabe is trying to distract her at all means.

"So," he says. "You were so stubborn they had to come help you?"

"Why'd you have to say it like that?" Maria growls. "But… yeah."

"You're such an idiot," Gabe sighs. "What's so bad about relying on others? Just think of them as tools to be used for your own devices."

"That's not the problem here!"

Maria and Gabe make an unusual pair, sitting in the chopper. One serious, down to the point, tanned first response expert, and another playful diagnostician with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth.

"I just can't stand the fact they they saved my ass," Maria continues.

"Well, I can definitely sympathize," says Gabe. "In my line of work, you start to see what people truly are. They're selfish and ignorant. It makes me not want to help them. Still, if you needed help from them, what does that make you?"

"I-I'm not really…" For once, Maria is lost for words.

"But, well," Gabe sighs. "What's wrong with a hero who isn't perfect?"

"Huh?"

"We're doctors. Our only goal is to save people's lives. If making a fool of yourself saves lives, isn't it worth it?"

A few seconds is spent in silence as Maria tries to soak this thought through. _Is it worth it? _Before she can come up with a reasonable reply, a radio transmission comes over, blasting static in Maria's ears as they come through her headset.

"Can you hear me? This is Cumberland Dispatch Center! Resurgam 01, respond, over!"

"This is Resurgam 01," Maria replies briskly. "What's the matter?"

"There's been a bombing at Portland Airport! Heavy casualties! Get there immediately! Over!"

"Roger that," says Maria immediately. "Resurgam 01, heading to the scene. Over!"

The chopper lifts up into the sky, and Gabe flattens in his seat. _This is the absolute last time I ride with Maria Torres, _Gabe thinks darkly.

* * *

"What… is this?" Maria whispers in shock as she arrives at the scene. Bombing… burning buildings, blood everywhere, and the sounds of people's last breaths fading away in the air… sirens wailing, planes crashing, and screams making every uneasy.

"There's no time to think!" Gabe orders. "Start caring for the victims!"

"Yeah!" Maria says. It's only because she has known Gabe for a long time did she not swear very loudly at him for giving her obvious orders. "We're with Resurgam First Care!" she yells at the paramedics already assembled. "Gather the victims here! We'll start treatment on them as they pass through triage!"

* * *

_Foreign objects. Cuts. Burns. _One patient has a steel beam stuck in his chest, and Gabe tells Maria to run for help.

Deciding to try it out for once, Maria yells for hydraulic cutters, and to her surprise, someone hands a pair to her with ease.

All the bomb patients are treated successfully, but it doesn't mean that it had to be easy. By the time Maria has finished with her patients and the choppers have cleared out of the area, leaving her and Gabe alone in the deserted airport, her clothes are soaked with sweat and her hands are trembling.

"Hey," says Gabe. "You did good."

He holds out a bottle of water for her, who seriously needs it.

"Hmph," Maria grunts, but swipes the bottle and takes a long sip.

"So," says Gabe. "How did it feel to make a fool of yourself again?" he asks, referring to the hydraulic cutter incident.

Maria only sighs.

"You know, we're humans," says Gabe. "We only have two arms. No matter how good you are, you can't do everything."

Gabe expects a turn of personality for Maria, either softheartedness or swearing. But what he doesn't expect is her sulking off, bottle of water clutched in hand.

"You going home?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

"Hanging around with you tires me out," Maria mutters. "Later!"

While he didn't get a spoken victory from Maria, Gabe knows that he has won this round. The smirk on his face tells the story itself

* * *

Back at her home, back at the crackling flames that warm the place. Maria sits in her armchair, watching and waiting, for she knows that the girl will come tonight.

And she does.

The same girl as always, but no purple shape covers her this time. No, she fades in from the very beginning.

Maria takes a deep breath. She doesn't swear. She doesn't throw things. Instead, she utters one word that seems the most un-Maria-like in the world, something only Gabriel Cunningham will say. And maybe not even then.

"Yo."

Rosalia doesn't say anything.

"Hey," says Maria. "It takes guts to ask someone for help, huh?"

It feels good to talk to someone, even if she's only a hallucination.

"I don't even know how I'm supposed to do it," Maria continues, chuckling softly. "Is that why you're here? You… want to be saved, too?"

"Hey…" Maria sits up suddenly. "I've seen you before."

She has. The white-haired girl? Pink eyes? White dress? Yes. She recognizes her… from the past… from the orphanage days.

Something in Maria's heart has always known that it was her, from the very first time Maria had seen her from the beginning, at that fire… Before, it was only an unconscious thought, thrown away in a few seconds… but it's only now when the realization sparks into the doctor, when she finally realizes, consciously, that it's Rosalia Rossellini.

Rosalia sighs, and her eyes half-close in relief, as if finally relieved that Maria _knows._

"Hey, turn around!" Maria cries. Too impatient to wait, she stands up herself and walks next to the wavering girl, who is talking… the same word. "Beginning? What's beginning? Dammit!"

Rosalia's eyes close entirely, though this time… could it be from disappointment? She withdraws into the world where she came from, leaving Maria alone in her home.

"Hey, wait!" she cries, just as the last few imprints of the girl is fading away. "Hey!"

It's too late. Rosalia Rossellini is gone.

* * *

Well, this is great. I just remember that Maria isn't supposed to know who Rosalia is until now. Oh well... ignore all previous Rosalia-comments, mkay? I'll edit those out when I've got the time and patience to re-upload everything and replace them. *yawn* For now, off to doing whatever stuff fk does... mainly trying to beat fr at that posting race...


	15. Maria: V: Desperate Rescue

**CHAPTER FIVE  
**_Desperate Rescue_

Tomoe Tachibana and Maria Torres sit together at the mall's cafeteria, talking about the same things Gabe had said.

"Oh my," says Tomoe, her long black hair swaying in a nonexistent breeze, shoppers walking past her, not noticing that they are bypassing two famous doctors from Resurgam First Care. "It's so unusual to see you so troubled, Maria. Honestly, I've done everything by myself until now…"

"I don't know how to ask people for help, or what I should do," Maria grumbles, slouching forwards onto the table, her cheek rested on her wrists, looking up at Tomoe.

Tomoe, surprised at this outrageously easy request, answers with ease. "It's simple. Be yourself, and don't worry about it."

"Huh?"

"Isn't it odd to work hard on becoming less independent?" Tomoe asks brightly, a finger raised in the air. "I believe it's important to be true to your own nature."

"Being true to myself?" Maria asks, her head now completely facing the table. "Man, you lost me."

Tomoe sighs, and tries a different tactic. "Oh, I forgot! I need to shop for groceries for dinner! Please, help me out, Maria!"

"Huh?" Maria asks, her emerald eyes emerging from folds of paramedic uniforms. Tomoe doesn't wait for an answer, but yanks her up by the sleeve of her jacket, and pulls her out of her chair.

"Hey!" Maria cries, rising to her feet, but following Tomoe reluctantly to the stores.

* * *

Maria and Tomoe walk along the second-floor level of the mall, pushing a cart already filled with bags of peppers, pineapples, and a series of bizarre food. Not only that, it's a lot, too.

"This is shopping for _dinner?" _Maria asks incredulously. "How much do you _eat?"_

"Did you say something?" Tomoe asks, oblivious to Maria's previous statement.

"Nah, never mind," Maria sighs. Her tired eyes suddenly light up, though, at the sight in front of the two doctors. "Isn't that… Gabe and Hank?"

Indeed, they were. "Hey, fancy running into you guys," Gabe calls out, hand raised in greeting. "What're you up to?"

Maria is about to shout out a reply, but before she can do so, another sight distracts her. The world darkens and the only visible light is a figure behind Gabe: Rosalia Rossellini.

"_Run…" _she whispers, and the single word ripples across the distance in between Maria and Rosalia, much louder than it should be.

Maria is still lost in shock, even when Rosalia disappears, but a loud rumbling soon snaps her out of it. This rumbling isn't the one she felt, at that shipwreck incident. No, this time, something big is coming… and soon.

With the sound of screeching metal and wailing voices, a crumpled yellow school bus erupts through the walls of the second story mall, its fender already destroyed, tires bursting, crashing into the railings that hold the second story from the first. Maria and Tomoe watch, wide-eyed and mouths hanging open, as the bus breaks the thin metal frames and dangle over the open edge, threatening to fall over to the first floor.

The bus breaks through half the floor with a thunderous blast that vibrates through the entire mall. A piece of the railing flies at Maria and hits her in the ribs, knocking her to the ground. Tomoe is there immediately.

"Are you all right?" she asks worriedly.

"I'm fine!" Maria snaps, rising to a standing position. "What about everyone else?"

They run off, skirt around the scene of the wreck, and find Hank Freebird on the other side… but Gabriel Cunningham isn't there with him.

"Are you all right, Dr. Freebird?" Tomoe cries. "Where's Dr. Cunningham?"

Hank coughs, and a cloud of dust flies up immediately, clouding his face. "I… don't know! He was right in front of me…"

Hank rises to join the two doctors, and they turn to face the scene. The section of the floor that the bus rests on is threatening to crash, taking the lives of children with it. A section of the front is already dangling over the edge, and momentum will be the true enemy.

"Are you serious?" Maria whispers.

"Dr. Freebird, please lend me a hand!" Tomoe cries, grabbing Hank's arm and running in the opposite direction of the crash.

"Hey!" Maria suddenly cries. "Tomoe! Where're you going?"

"I'm going to look for Dr. Cunningham downstairs!" Tomoe yells back. "We'll leave the people on this floor with you, Maria!"

The sounds of shuffling feet disappear, and Maria is left alone. "Dammit," she mutters. "Fine! Bring it on!"

Maria runs to the scene of the crash, mumbling to herself along the way. "It'll take about six minutes for the paramedics to arrive. I don't know how many people there are, but I have to help them! There won't be anyone to help me… I'll have to do this alone."

Hadn't she always wanted to do something alone, by herself? But now, with an emergency crisis on her hands, she suddenly realizes how much she misses the bonehead idiots who always get in her way…

* * *

Cardiac arrest greets Maria the moment she starts treatment, and the pulse is quickly revived. Another patient is full of glass, then hemorrhaging, and Maria finds her hands so full of patients that she simply cannot handle them all. One patient slowly passes away, and then another. If one more person dies… Maria is going to lose it.

She can only think of one solution.

"Is there… anyone out there?" she asks nervously, halting all treatment. "Someone? Please… I need help!"

It seems like Maria is talking to thin air, and there's no Rosalia this time. Her head bows; even asking for help is going to backfire in her face.

"Dammit…"

Then… she hears the familiar voice of Chief Esha Patel.

"Did you call for help, Maria?" the chief asks, smiling.

Maria looks up in surprise as the mall becomes flooded with paramedics and doctors. Voices arise as patients are unloaded off the ruined bus, calling for syringes, gauze, membranes, and basically, everything. Shocked, Maria can only watch and stare as everyone comes to her rescue, making what seems impossible look possible.

"Ch-Chief?" she stammers. "Darnell… and Emma too? E-Even the paramedics? Wh-Why?"

"Why do you sound surprised?" Esha asks. "It's natural to expect some sort of backup to appear at accident scenes."

"N-Natural?"

"That's right," says the chief, grinning. "There's nothing shameful or weak about cooperating with others. As long as we're alive, we can rely on others to lend us their strength. Even if you don't always want it. Isn't that right?"

Maria can't utter a single word.

"Stand up, Maria," the chief demands. "All of us have only one reason to be here: to save lives!"

"Ugh…" Maria groans. "I-I know that! Dammit!"

"Oh yes," says Esha. "One more thing… you've done very well in keeping things in check until we arrived… Dr. Torres."

"Chief?" Maria is questing the chief's sanity now.

"We've still got one last battle to fight! There's no time to rest!"

Maria returns to treatment immediately, with newfound strength that surges through her veins, and soon, a row of stabilized patients wait for transport. Following orders, she rises to her new glory, relieved.

"Chief?" Maria whispers. "Thanks for coming."

* * *

"Alright," says Maria, hoisting the stabilized patient onto a stretcher. "Get him out of here."

The paramedic nods and wheels the patient out, and Maria turns around. "Next!"

To her surprise, the floor is empty, only occupied by Esha Patel.

"It's over," she says. "All the patients have been transported."

Maria, glad for the news, crumbles to her knees, right on top of the debris and shrapnel. "We're done? Everyone?"

"You can't relax yet, Dr. Torres!" Emma's voice suddenly appears out of nowhere. "You have an important job!"

"Huh?" Maria mumbles, her eyes threatening to close.

"Seriously, c'mon!" Esha says. "Take a look around!"

Emma and Darnell have arrived behind the chief, and slowly, masses of other paramedics slip into the small crowd.

"Everyon'es waiting for you," says Darnell. "Please, tell us what to do next, Dr. Torres!"

"Me?" Maria asks, shocked. "B-But why?"

"A hero isn't something you can just choose to be," says Esha. "It's what you become when people trust and look up to you."

"A hero…" Maria plays with the word in her mouth, tasting is alien properties, like she's never heard of it before. "I'm…"

"C'mon," Esha laughs. "How long are you going to space out like this? We're all counting on you, Miss Hero."

_Miss Hero. _Maria doesn't shoot back a name for Esha at the thought of this new nickname, but instead, she rises to her feet. "Uh… keep searching the area! Split up into groups! Everyone from Resurgam First Care, we're going below! Everyone stay in touch and work together! Let's go!"

Chief Esha Patel grins. _That's more like it.

* * *

_

* * *

Well, there's only an epilogue to go before finishing up Maria and going into HANK FREEBIRD. *groans* I think Hank's story is boring. Bleargh. Why does mf get all the funny ones, like Gabe and Naomi? Humph. I don't care how slow mario41001 is at Diagnostics and Forensics, I'm doing them if mf doesn't pick up the pace. Like for instance, get past Naomi's prologue and actually write one word of Gabe's story other than the prologue's title.

*cough*

Mockingjayfire enjoys slacking off. So she should be happy that I have so much spare time on my hands.


	16. Maria: Epilogue: Together in Spirit

**EPILOGUE  
**_Together In Spirit_

"This award is given in recognition of honor and valor…"

Maria listens proudly to the speech given in her honor. She stands on the stage at the town hall, and in front of her is an ocean of paramedics who have come to watch her victory. _I'm finally a hero._

In the back stands the crew from Resurgam: Tomoe Tachibana, Hank Freebird, and Esha Patel.

"Look at Maria," Tomoe giggles. "Such dignity!"

"Indeed," Hank says deeply. "I'm sure recent events have helped her mature."

"Do you both seriously think that?" Esha laughs. "You really don't know that girl, do you?"

Her words are soon proven to be true as Maria leaps forwards to receive her award, and hollering in the process. "Yeaaaaah! That's right, I'm the HERO! Follow my lead, and we'll all save lives!"

"See? People don't change that easily," says Esha, with a smirk.

Hank only watches Maria standing there proudly, the hero she has finally gotten to be. Her shrieks echo through the bare walls of the hall, piercing his ears like fingernails on a chalkboard. The cheers of the crowd is deafening tot the eardrums, too. "Perhaps… we should head back as soon as possible."

Tomoe smiles, shaking her head slightly at Maria's immaturity. "I… agree with that."

* * *

Guess what, Tomoe? fk agrees with that too.

Well, we're all done here with First Response! Now onto Orthopedics... *groans* Ouch. Working with bones, Hank Freebird, and "rock solid".

*steals Gabe from mf* Here, you can have Endoscopy. Maybe you can actually learn something about not tormenting the patient's insides like that Blue thingy from Artemis Fowl... Blue Spider? Blue Bug? I forgot.

And don't use your endoscopic machine as a strain of extra mutated Paraskevi. That tends to stink. Don't use it as Kyriaki, either. Or anything that makes lacerations.

fk will get Hank up as soon as possible... she just won't have as much fun with it.


	17. Hank: Prologue: Captain Eagle

**PROLOGUE  
**_Captain Eagle_

In a normal store, in the middle of a normal city named Portland, something abnormal is happening inside indeed. Panic has arisen inside as shoppers cower behind shelves of canned food, or toothpaste, or light bulbs, their hands pressed over their ears and just hoping to make out of this alive. Only one person is moving actively, and he's yelling his head off, hand slapping the counter, demanding heavily for the things he want.

"Hurry up and gimme the cash!" he roars at the frightened cashier. "Make it quick!"

The mugger, however, doesn't seem to be confident in himself; his tone is high pitched, filled to the brim with nervousness and spasms. Even so, the cashier's hands are raised, knees knocking against each other in fear, so it comes as a surprise when a steady voice breaks the nervous silence.

"Not so fast, criminal," a deep voice claims.

The mugger turns away from the counter, gun pointed at the tall and muscular guy in front of him, in a ridiculous costume. "Who the hell are you?" he demands, but there's something about that man that makes him more scared than he should be from him…

"I am the ambassador of love and justice," the man declares. "Captain Eagle! No crime will be tolerated on my watch!"

_Captain Eagle _is fit in an ocean blue costume with yellow stripes on the ankles and biceps. On his back is the silhouette of an eagle, and apparent, the captain's insignia too. Two golden wings sprout from his head, like pointed elf ears, each the width of his head. And on his neck, a deep red ribbon trails behind him, floating in an invisible wind.

"What?" the gunner shrieks. "You masked _freak! _I-I'm gonna shoot!"

His hands are queasy with spasms, though, so the chance of the bullet actually hitting Captain Eagle isn't big.

The mega captain seems to realize this, and steps forwards, grabbing the man by his collar and lifting him with one arm. The mugger's head flies into the ceiling and to everyone's amazement, breaks the ceiling away and goes right through. A shower of dust and debris swirls around Captain Eagle, and the cashier just manages to keep a scream in, but the mugger is howling in pain.

"Sir," says Captain Eagle to the cashier, his hand still raised at the ceiling, holding the kicking robber tightly. "Are you all right?"

"Y-Yeah…" he stutters, utterly frightened and amazed at the scene being carried out before his very eyes.

"I apologize for the mess," the captain says. "Please allow me to help fix it…"

He throws the robber up onto the roof, and steps towards the counter. A hand stretches out, and the tinkering sound of coins falling is heard. The cashier leans in and spots a few pennies, nickels, and dimes, not even enough to reach one dollar.

"And farewell!" Captain Eagle cries, and runs out of the store, into the sunny day street, and passersby glare at him, questioning his sanity.

"Wait! This isn't gonna cover the damage!" the cashier yells, but it's too late. Captain Eagle is _gone._

* * *

Something tells me that Hank's story is going to be weirder than Maria's.

Yep, we're into HANK FREEBIRD!

The next chapter of the chronological version: "18. Hank: I: The Big Guy".


	18. Hank: I: The Big Guy

**CHAPTER ONE  
**_The Big Guy_

Gabriel Cunningham yawns sleepily in the lazy breeze, his papers blurring into black splotches on white as he rubs his eyes tiredly, already looking forwards to bedtime. But no, he has an operation scheduled later today.

Suddenly, a loud _bang _sounds to his side, and Gabe looks up immediately, wondering where it came from. It could be from a car's trunk slamming down, or doors colliding against each other, but never did Gabriel Cunningham, the famous diagnostician, ever expect to see Hank Freebird fall into a garbage can.

"_What _in the _world _are you _doing?" _Gabe asks incredulously, running towards the sight of Hank's legs sticking out of the huge garbage cans.

"Uh… uh… Good morning!" Hank stutters, lost for words and trying to think of a lie. "I… uh… I tripped and I… uh… fell!"

_You need to fall off the freaking _roof _to fall into the garbage can! _Gabe thinks in his mind, but doesn't question it. The last thing he needs is a red-faced Hank Freebird sitting in the OR later today.

So instead, he says, "How'd that happen?"

Then, realizing that it's just as bad as his previous thought, he quickly says, "Here, take a look at this chart."

Gabe tosses his papers onto Hank's chest, where it slides into the garbage mess also. Hank wrinkles his nose in disgust, but picks up the already sodden papers and skim through it.

"Hmm… she needs surgery," he muses. "Have you met with her yet?"

"Yeah," Gabe says. "I was the one who diagnosed her. She's stable."

"I see…"

"Well, don't celebrate yet," says Gabe in an annoying tone. "Make sure you do a good job, got it?"

"Yeah! Of course!"

* * *

"She has a case of Plummer's disease," says Hank. "This should be easy."

"Make your incision in the neck and excise only the adenoma," says Gabe. "The number of adenoma is unknown, so get all of them, okay?"

"Understood," says Hank. "Beginning the operation!"

Hank opens up the patient's neck expertly, and finds the first adenoma, which he removes immediately. The second one follows, and a third, large one, meets the same fate. After excising four adenomas, the final one shows up, and that is soon gone, also.

"That's it," says Hank, but still fingering his scalpel. "Any more?"

"Nope," says Gabe. "That's the last one. Let's close the operation field and finish up."

Hank nods, and takes the stapler, closing the wound in the patient's neck.

_Operation successful.

* * *

_

In the shower room later, Hank and Gabe stand in adjoining stalls, talking over the crackling static of the radio that sits on a wooden table behind them.

"Don't your cigarettes get damp in here?" Hank asks. Yep, Gabe is still smoking… even in the shower. Hank has more disturbing questions, but doesn't ask them.

"What'd happen if you went diving without an oxygen mask?" Gabe replies.

"I'd… drown?" Hank answers uneasily.

"You see?" Gabe replies evenly. "Consider this my version of an oxygen mask."

"So that's how those things work?" Hank says, not bothering to mention the fact that if you went diving with a cigarette and no oxygen mask, you'd drown too, Gabe or not Gabe.

"_We have breaking news in progress," _the radio suddenly says, making itself useful for once, and immediately, the two men fall silent. "_Theodore Gacy's visit to the country is fast approaching. Gacy's usually known by his nickname, Steady Hand Teddy. He is the alleged leader of an overseas drug smuggling cartel. Groups are now at the airport, rallying against his arrival…"_

Gabe doesn't find this news interesting, and turns back to the wall that separates him from Hank. "Oh, hey. You free later? Wanna hit a bar or some-"

Gabe stops suddenly when he realizes that there's no rush of water coming from Hank's stall, only an eerie silence.

"Hey, what the?" Gabe mutters under his breath. "Where'd that guy go?"

Gabe might not find Theodore Gacy interesting, but Hank Freebird certainly does.

* * *

"Is this country run by idiots or what?" a tall, slim man with a wave of orange hair mutters, climbing out of a car. "The land of the free, huh? Let's see if we can't make some sales, shall we?"

Theodore Gacy chokes up in laughter with his two accomplices, but that's soon cut short as a tall man in a ridiculous blue jumpsuit's shadow towers over them.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Gacy snorts.

"I won't allow crime to occur on this soil!" Captain Eagle, or now, as we have all learned, Hank Freebird, says. "Prepare yourself!"

"Crime, eh?" Gacy's pale, colorless eyes mutters. "Tell me… is this what you had in mind?"

One of Gacy's accomplices points a gun at the captain.

"Guns aren't for threatening people," Captain Eagle declares.

"Uh… what?"

"Guns are only for murdering people!" the captain yells. With a grunt, he grabs Theodore Gacy's car and flips it over, knocking the gunman flat.

"Are you some sort of monster?" Gacy roars, grabbing his gun.

"If you wanted to kill me, you'd have shot me already," Captain Eagle says. "Now… farewell!"

He turns, but Gacy calls out once more.

"Hey! Tiny! You think you've won, huh? You're some god damn hero that saved the city? Bullshit! You're not better than me, you hypocrite!"

Hank tries to ignore those words and block them out, and runs from the airport, leaving Theodore Gacy to be arrested by the policemen trickling into the area.

Gacy doesn't protest or fight, merely laughs in his crazy, demonic way, mocking Captain Eagle at every step.

* * *

Something really tells me that if Hank is crazy enough to fall into a garbage can, run out of the shower naked to find his Captain Eagle costume, and flip a car over, he's crazy enough to be operated on.

By the way, fk has written EVERYTHING up to this point, apart from Sleeping in the Bloom. :)


	19. Hank: II: Time For Trouble

**CHAPTER TWO  
**_Time For Trouble_

"Hank! Thank God! Can you get into surgery _right now?"_

Hank Freebird turns from the sliding glass doors of Resurgam First Care to see Maria running up to him fast.

"Uh, yeah," he says. "What's wrong?"

"I just carried in an emergency patient," says Maria quickly, gasping for breath. After a split second, she adds, "An attempted suicide."

"Why?" Hank isn't the type to hurry.

"What?" Maria isn't that type, her slanted eyes flashing dangerously.

"Why did the patient try to commit suicide?"

"_How should I know?" _Maria exclaims. "I wanna ask that myself! Now _shut it _and get going! The patient's in Room Three!"

* * *

"Dr. Freebird," Tomoe Tachibana greets warmly, turning to Hank. "I'm glad that you made it in time."

"Dr. Tachibana," Hank replies with equal respect, "I'm sorry if I made you wait."

"Not at all," Tomoe smiles. "I always enjoy assisting you in surgery."

"Thank you," says Hank. "Well, let's go over the procedure then."

"There are two critical areas," Tomoe briefs. "The right arm and the left leg. We will align the fractured bones and hold them together."

"That sounds good," says Hank. "Let's begin the operation!"

Hank begins with the right arm, making an incision quickly. The humerous is fractured, out of alignment, and Hank quickly fixes it.

Tomoe readies a plate, and he drills and screws it in expertly.

Then, the left leg bones are completely shattered. Hank extracts all the bone fragments, and puts them back together, but then realizes that one fragment is missing.

With no choice, Hank lasers out a synthetic bone to replace the old one. It fits in perfectly; after drilling in plates is the femur treatment.

Hank uses a pin fixation to fix the broken femur, hammering it in with… well, a hammer, or it this case, a mallet. Once the femur has been secured at both ends, he closes up the patient with a stapler and finishes up the operation.

"Thank you, doctor, for saving this life," says Tomoe formally.

"Don't thank me," Hank mutters. "I just hope this girl finds her passion for life."

* * *

Hank soon learns that Claire Blunt certainly doesn't have a passion for life.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, stepping into Claire's room.

"Are you the doctor that saved me?" Claire asks, not looking at Hank, but in the other direction, out the window. After a short pause, she asks, "Why?"

"Why?" Hank asks, surprised. "It's our _duty _to save patients' lives.

"Don't lie to me," Claire snaps, her strange purple eyes flashing dangerously, her silver hair only making it worse. "I'm tired of hearing crap like that."

"_What?"_

"Forcing people to believe you're right _all the time…" _Claire mutters darkly, "What's so great about being alive? What's so bad about dying?"

Hank sighs; this isn't the first suicide patient he's gone through. "What do you gain from being dead?"

"It's a hell of a lot better than being alive, at least," Claire shoots back. "The world is just full of hypocrites like you."

Hank, startled, recalls Theodore Gacy's words at that airport… _Hey! Tiny! You think you've won, huh? You're some goddamn hero that saved the city? Bullshit! You're not better than me, you hypocrite! _Now Claire Blunt is calling him a hypocrite also… Tears threaten to wash out of Hank's eyes, as big as a tough guy he might be, but he fights them back.

"Your leg should be fine in two months," he mumbles. "You'll be out soon."

Hank leaves the room, closing the door softly behind him, leaving behind all imprints of hypocrites and deaths.

* * *

That night, Hank has a nightmare, his world full of guns and fire, of blood and death. With a start, he struggles awake, panting, and props himself up on one elbow.

"John… I don't know what's right anymore," he whispers, talking to a wooden-framed picture of two men in army uniforms. "Maybe they're right. I'm only saving people to feel better about myself… yeah, I know, John. I can't stop now."

Sirens are wailing in the background, and Hank sets down the picture and reaches for his Captain Eagle costume.

* * *

Oh, joy. Another Linda Reid, eh? Humph. At least Linda had a _good _excuse for suiciding: Kyriaki. Whereas Claire is... yeah.

*smirks* mf's first name is Clare. And Robert Pattinson's mother is also named Clare. And according to mf, CR-S01 is Edward Cullen, which means that Clare is actually CR's mother and... uh... I'd better avoid the last part.

Oh no. mf is going to kill me now.

Chronological order, next chapter: "26. Gabe: II: Blazing Darkness".


	20. hank: III: Love in the Ground

**CHAPTER THREE  
**_Love in the Ground_

"That was a fine operation, doctor," says Hank, stepping through the translucent green glass walls of the OR. "Thank you."

CR-S01's red eyes slide to the ground as Hank's hand reaches for the young surgeon's. "I didn't do anything worth being thanked over."

* * *

Claire Blunt stands in the garden, the cool breeze flapping her matte black dress. Her arm and leg are still bandaged with pristine white bandages, but it doesn't seem to bother Claire.

"Do you like flowers?"

Hank Freebird's voice interrupts Claire's daydream of frolicking in a flower patch all day…

"Not really," Claire replies bitterly, determined not to give victory over to the surgeon who saved her life.

"Aren't they beautiful, though?" Hank asks, disappointed. "This one's called an Asclepias tuberosa."

Hank points to a blooming flower in the color of flames – yellow, orange, and red washing over its petals. A single Monarch hovers over the flower before flying off and disappearing from sight.

"It's a perennial that blooms orange, red, and yellow flowers," Hank continues explaining, waving a dark-skinned hand over the field of flowers.

"Is that so…" Claire murmurs, uninterested. "Hey, aren't you gonna get mad at me?"

"Get mad? Why?"

"The sign says this area's off limits," Claire says, with an aura of smugness in her voice. "But I'm here anyways."

"Well, I guess," Hank says, stunned by the silver-haired girl's will to get in trouble, _to die. _"But, I haven't seen you do any harm, have I?"

"Is that how things are?" Claire replies, and drops a paper stud onto the grass.

Her plan works. "Don't do that!" Hank yells.

"What now?" Claire smirks, rolling her eyes.

"You shouldn't be so careless," says Hank fiercely, missing the point that Claire is doing this on purpose. "The earth is alive too, you know."

"So _now _you're going to get mad at me?" Claire asks hopefully.

Hank gives a sigh of exasperation. "This is different. People can't just do whatever they want. Some things are just plain wrong, and they should be corrected."

_This guy looks buff, but he's actually a softie? _Claire fights to urge to laugh out loud, but fortunately, Maria Torres's angry voice cuts off her attempts to hide her giggles.

"Hank, what the hell are you doing? You get ready for surgery, _now!"_

"Oh no," Hank mumbles, knowing that it's best to avoid Maria's temper-flaring side. "I'll be right there!"

Hank is about to run off, but Claire's voice stops him.

"Hey, Doc?"

Hank turns to face the young woman, surprised that she had called him _Doc._

"What?" he asks.

"Why'd you become a doctor?" Claire whispers. "Is it fun saving lives?"

"Life is wonderful," Hank says. "And I want to pass that onto people!"

Hank disappears into the sunshiny yellow halls of Resurgam, off to find Maria, leaving Claire alone in the garden.

"Wonderful, huh?" Claire mutters. "What a weirdo…"

But even as she says those very words, the ghost of a faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips, turning an undesirable face into a beautiful one, just like the blooming Asclepias flowers below.

* * *

"_Hank! _You _prick, _you've got _some nerve _showing up late!" Maria screeches at Hank the moment he walks through the doors.

"Sorry," Hank gasps, trying to avoid Maria's anger the best he can. "Let's get started!"

"Ugh!" Maria takes a huge breath, trying to calm herself down, knowing that temper tantrums won't do her any good in an operation. Finally calm, she says, "We're dealing with ependymoma of the spine, but…"

"Is there a problem?"

"Yeah," says Maria. "Check it out. It's the patient's MRI…"

"The entire _spine _is swollen," Hank gasps. "Uncommon for an ependymoma."

"Right?" Maria confirms, pleased. "Well, let's hope there aren't any complications. Let's begin."

Hank opens up the patient's back to start, and lasers off the vertebral arches to get a view on the operation area. He then makes an incision into the dura mater to find the ependymoma.

The spinal cord opens, and both surgeons give a gasp. "That is one _damn huge _tumor," Maria gasps. Sure enough, a brilliant red tumor sits in the middle of the spinal cord.

"At that size, it's impossible to extract it all at once," says Hank calmly. "Let's go bit by bit."

Bit by bit it is. Slowly, piece-by-piece, the tumor disappears completely.

"You really know your stuff," Maria comments.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Hank asks. "I _am _a specialist, you know."

"Ah, shut up. Don't bother me with details. I'm still wondering about that MRI…"

Maria's words fade off as the operation field seems to darken… no, only some parts of it are darkening. With equal shock to both doctors, black bruises creep onto the spinal cord, grasping the fragile bones in its deathly grip.

"Wh-what the?" Maria yells frantically. "There are black bruises on the spinal cord!"

"Wait!" Hank cries. "Something's wrong!"

As if Maria doesn't know that.

But what Maria really doesn't know – and frankly, neither does Hank – is that a _thing _suddenly weaves its way to the surface of the spinal cord, and although not as large as the previous tumor, definitely as looming and threatening.

The first thing Hank notices about it is that it's purple, and shaped like a diamond, about an eighth of the mega tumor's size. Two blood vessels surge through it, connecting it to the spinal cord. Deadly, for sure.

"This… is this an outbreak of hemangioblastoma?" he cries.

"So this is what was on the MRI!" Maria groans. "What are we going to _do?"_

"We'll continue with the extraction!" Hank declares, trying to ignore the black bruises… _they're moving. "_We have to remove all of it!"

Hank cuts the blood vessels, and soon the tumor is gone.

"If the abnormalities on the MRI are from hemangioblastoma, I doubt that's the end of it," Maria sighs.

Maria's very words prove to be right as another tumor forms, but this time, the blood vessels are moving. This proves to be no problem to the surgeon, and after the treatment of the second tumor, the black bruises fade away.

"The black bruises disappeared?" Maria whispers, shocked.

"It seems like it's over," Hank sighs.

"Yeah, but what the hell was that just now?" Maria asks. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"In any case, let's end this operation," says Hank. I don't want to strain the patient."

Maria agrees, and Hank starts reinforcing the vertebral arches with rods. After that's done, Hank closes up the operation field and takes a big sigh of relief.

"Hank? You all right, big guy?" Maria asks worriedly, watching Hank's stony expression after the operation. With no doubt, he's reflecting back to those creepy black bruises…

"I've never seen spinal ependymoma like this," he sighs.

"Well, the surgery went great, so it's fine now, right?" Maria asks.

"We can't just leave it at that," Hank exclaims. "I'll report it to Gabriel."

Gabriel, not Gabe. Hank and his formal words.

"Hey there!" calls a cheery voice. Hank and Maria turn to see Chief Esha Patel stride through the sliding glass doors. "Well done, everyone!"

"Chief?" Even Maria can be surprised sometimes. "What are you doing here?"

"Is it that odd for me to come down here?" the chief replies. "By the way, Hank… there's a _lady _at the entrance here to _see you!"_

"_Me?" _Hank asks, astounded. _It has to be Claire…_

"I'm being serious!" Esha says. "Now hurry up and _go!"

* * *

_

Sure enough, Claire Blunt stands at the entrance, hidden behind a growth of flowers.

"It's you," Hank notices. "How are your wounds? You should come inside."

"I hate hospitals," Claire says airily. "They smell gross… like medicine."

"Is that so?" Hank says, concerned. "Well, all right. So what brings you here?"

Claire does the most unexpected thing ever: holding out a picnic basket. "You hungry?"

Okay, maybe the most unexpected thing might be her suddenly tap dancing in the middle of the field, or sprout wings and whack Hank on the head, but still.

"What's this?" Hank asks.

"Food," Claire says, somewhat embarrassed. "I haven't cooked in a while, and I made too much."

"For me?" Hank asks, surprised. "I… appreciate your kindness."

"Dude," Claire laughs. "It's _leftovers. _You don't need to be so excited."

"It's not true," Hank says. "You still took the effort to give them to me. And that alone is worth being grateful for."

Claire is silent for the moment, and then utters two words: "You're weird."

"I'm weird?" Hank asks. "Why?"

"My dad… used to cheat on my mom," Claire mumbles softly, turning her back onto Hank. "And she cried all the time. So… yeah. I don't trust men. I always end up fighting them." She gives a sigh. "I'm just so _tired _of that cycle… it just keeps repeating itself, over and over."

"Is that the reason for your… uh…" Hank isn't sure if he should mutter the next word: _suicide._

"My _suicide?" _Claire completes. "Yeah, I mean, it would be so much easier.

"That's ridiculous!" Hank sputters, offended at last. _He's _a guy, and _he _saved the person standing in front of him shouting insults! Hello!

"Huh?"

"I said, that's ridiculous. Look at how blue the sky is, and how green the grass is. The world's a wonderful enough place as it is."

"That doesn't make any sense," Claire mutters, rolling her eyes. "Oh well. Then again, that may be what's good about you after all."

"Is that so?"

Claire grins. "I'll come again. See you, Doc."

Claire walks off, and this time, she's the one leaving Hank alone in the garden, surrounded by Asclepias flowers.

Hank sighs, and his head drops, and then snaps up at the sight of a newspaper on the ground. The heading catches Hank's eyes immediately: _Eagle Man Appears!_

Hank's eyes burn with hatred, broiling with flames at the sight of the picture behind the caption: a heavily doctored photo of him jumping off a roof. If it hadn't been for Gabriel Cunningham interrupting him in the middle of his mental tantrum, Hank would've been left with staring at that page forever until he turned to skin and bones. And maybe even longer.

"Hey, Hank! What's up?"

Hank turns to see Gabe, but says nothing.

"So _you're _the one who takes care of the flowers?" Gabe smirks. "Well, I'll be."

* * *

*snorts* So Gabe says "Well, I'll be."? Then **_I _**say, "Well, I'll be" too.

I'm pretty sure that it's illegal for a doctor and a patient to start having affairs... well, I'll be.

(Psst. Hank. Specialist is only a B rank in the game, ya know. You aim for _medical prodigy, _which is XS. Oh, here's a ratings guide, for those of you who don't know:

C - Rookie Surgeon  
B - Specialist  
A - Senior Surgeon  
S - Master Surgeon  
XS - Medical Prodigy)


	21. Hank: IV: Broken Heart

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**_Broken Heart_

In the same store that Hank had thrown a mugger up and through the ceiling, the orthopedics doctor stands waiting in line to purchase his things, and thankfully, in his regular clothes.

_The roof is fixed, _he notices, failing to realize that the few cents he had given the cashier probably never made the cut.

The next thing he notices isn't has joyful or welcome. In the magazine rack below the counter, newspapers and gossip magazines show, but the most startling of them off is the _Daily Trauma, _with its bright yellow heading over a picture of Captain Eagle himself: _Eagle Man! Get the Latest News on This Fiend!"_

Hank's muscular hand reaches for the newspaper, clutching it tightly, as if wrangling a slithering snake. His fingers unconsciously tighten their grip on the horrible title. _Fiend… how dare they… call me… a FIEND?_

"Hey, Mister!" The cashier's voice comes just in time for Hank to release the crumpled newspaper and prevent him from ripping it to shreds. "It's your turn. Ya gonna buy those or not?"

"Oh yeah!" Hank says. "I'm sorry. I'll just take this guy as well…"

Hank holds out the newspaper folded in his hands.

* * *

When Hank steps outside the store, the roar of ambulances and sirens wailing isn't mundane to him. His eyes follow the trail of flashing lights, turning his head to go with them. "Could something have happened?"

Hank's eyes slither over to the newspaper still clutched in his hands, and his fingers grasp them tighter and tighter still. _It doesn't matter what the public thinks of me. I have to do this.

* * *

_

"Quit standing around!" Maria's unmistakably commanding voice reaches every paramedic and bystander's ears as she whirls around to face them. "Get stable victims ready for transport!"

"Allow me to help too, Miss!"

The even more unmistakable blue-and-yellow costume of Captain Eagle appears behind Maria.

"You're that… Eagle Man from the papers!" she says.

"Just some bad press," the captain shrugs, and then points at the collapsed Ferris wheel behind them. "Let's focus on saving this patient for now!"

Maria is reluctant to let creepy guys in eagle costumes to help, but agrees anyways.

"He has several broken bones," Captain Eagle says immediately, disguising his voice so that even Maria Torres cannot recognize him. "What hospital can take him?"

"Everywhere's full!" says Maria, failing to recognize Hank Freebird behind the mask. "We're sending the rest to Resurgam!"

"You're transporting them to Resurgam First Care?" Captain Eagle asks, shocked. "But…"

"Don't worry," says Maria, happy for a chance to brag. "Our orthopedics department is top notch!"

_Me, _Hank realizes guiltily. Without a word, he runs off. If that patient with the broken bones arrives at Resurgam, and Hank isn't there but crouched at the incident scene instead, that's not going to do a lot of good for his disguise.

Hank pushes away Maria's shouts for him to stop running, and keeps charging forwards. But when he hits the yellow tape that holds back the commoners, things prove to go wrong.

"Hey! Isn't that Eagle Man?" one person cries, pointing at the bright blue costume.

"That's him!" another person yells. "He must've been behind all this!"

"What?" Hank shouts, sure that he has heard wrong. "No, I had _nothing _to do with all this!"

"No more excuses!" a third person roars. "Hey, police! Here's the culprit!"

Speechless, Hank can only run off, trying to find a way to weave through the tide of incoming, and angry, citizens.

"Get back here, you filthy coward!" another person screams at him, but Hank keeps running, and ducking behind some ruins, tears his Captain Eagle costume off.

_This is no good, _he realizes. _No good at all…

* * *

_

Hank runs into the ER gasping for breath, clutching the walls for support, smudging the spotless glass with oily fingerprints. The janitor wouldn't be happy, but then again, neither would be Gabriel Cunningham.

"Where've you _been, _Hank?" the diagnostician declares. "Stop playing around! We're ready to begin!"

Hank takes a deep breath. "Sorry." Even talking hurts.

"Is there a problem?" Gabe asks.

"No," says Hank. "No, but… I've lost sight of why we're saving people's lives."

Claire's words have finally gotten into Hank's water-filled head, and the incident earlier today has probably added to the burden.

"Quit thinking about useless crap like that!" Gabe yells. "There's a _patient _here! Now isn't the time for this!"

"You're… absolutely right," Hank lies. "Let's… uh… begin the operation!"

Hank opens up the patient's right leg, finding the tibia chipped."

"We should fix it with synthetic bone," Hank says.

"Whatever. You're the specialist."

Hank first saws off a bit of the bone to prepare for the synthetic one. Then, he uses the laser to cut out the synthetic one.

The synthetic bone fits in perfectly. "Now to secure it with a plate," Hank instructs. "Prepare the drill."

After the plate, the femoral neck is next. The joint is completely smashed, leaving the two surgeons with no choice but to replace it with a synthetic bone.

Again, Hank saws off a bit of the bone to prepare for the synthetic one. The stem goes in, and then the ball point itself. A few more synthetic stuff go in, and it's operation complete.

At least, for one patient.

The next patient has an injury in the left leg. The entire leg is fractured, so Hank puts them back in place and secures them with plates, screws, and pins. Rock solid.

The femur comes next, and with no surprise to either doctors, the joint is completely smashed and needs artificial joints. Hank does that, and immediately after, finishes the operation.

* * *

Hank steps out onto the roof and much to his surprise, finds Maria sitting cross-legged on the surface.

"Well, this is new," says Hank, surprised that Maria actually takes breaks. "Something bothering you?"

Maria sighs, and quietly begins to tell her story, about the orphanage fire, the hero, everything.

"And that's when I made up my mind," says Maria. The sky has turned into a golden orange color, clouds flying past it. "I decided that I'd be an awesome hero who would save people!"

"Have you stayed in contact with the child you rescued?"

"Huh? Oh, that reminds me, I heard a letter came for me. I've been so busy that I haven't had time to get it. Ha…"

"I see."

Hank flashes back to the newspapers, the crowds, Theodore Gacy. "There's an important point you're missing."

"Huh?"

"There's a limit to what even a hero can do by himself. A hero acting on his own only acts in vain…"

Hank exits the building, passing the garbage can, passing the remains of his Captain Eagle costume that lies on top of the trash…

He doesn't pick it up.

* * *

Whew. The proxy's been wearing me out; refreshing every other minute. Glad I have that out of the way.

Again, Gabe, a specialist is only a B rank! Good old fk1998 here can get an XS rank on _Aletheia. _Okay, fine, I had cheat on, but seriously, I can achieve XS in most of the missions without cheat. And only one stylus.

Hehe. We're almost done Hank, and after that comes Tomoe, and after that, fk will be invading mf's Gabe. That came out wrong. Whoops.

Now, back to that OST I was listening to... do any of you listen to OST? No? DO IT NOW. I COMMAND YOU.


	22. Hank: V: I Want To Believe

**CHAPTER FIVE  
**_I Want To Believe_

Hank and Claire walk through the mall, peeking into the occasional shops, but mostly just talking.

"You sure this isn't too far?" Hank asks, for Claire is still injured and she shouldn't be walking long distances back to the hospital.

"It's fine," says Claire, who seems to have recovered from all signs of suiciding. "My mom's coming to pick me up. I had fun… thanks."

"All right," Hank agrees reluctantly. "Well, take care!"

Hank turns around and walks to another exit of the mall, leaving Claire at the entrance to wait for her mom. However, within seconds of walking away, gunshots echo in the background.

Hank's eyes widen as he turns around immediately, running towards the gunshots, fighting the tide of the crowd as they head into the opposite direction: _away _from the guns. But Hank pushes forwards, and eventually, reaches the scene.

People lie on the ground, blood soaking into the light orange floor, arms and legs at odd angles. Hank immediately recognizes the girl in the black dress, her silver hair falling to the ground as her head lies on it.

The worst thing is the pool of blood soaking the area around her.

"Claire!"

Hank kneels by Claire's side, and lifts up her fragile form. Her head seems tiny, enclosed in Hank's huge palm. A trickle of blood runs down the side of her mouth, and her grey eyes look up in pain and confusion.

"Huh…? D-Doc?"

"Hang in there!" Hank says fiercely. "An ambulance will be here soon!" _You're not going to leave me like this, _he thinks, but doesn't say.

Claire only gives a nervous laugh. "It's so weird… I always wanted to die… But… I can't see your face. Don't leave me!"

"_Claire! Don't give up, Claire!"_

_Maybe she really wants to die. _A bandaged arm slowly inches upwards to stroke Hank's face, his dark hair, his squinty eyes.

"Doc… I'm sorry. I… want to live after all…"

Tears slide out of Claire's eyes, blending in with the scarlet mixture of blood and tears. Her lips move and breath the quietest of words, words that even Hank cannot hear. _She can't leave now… she has been the light of my life… now… just when she wants to live… she has to die? Like this?_

"Claire… don't go…" Hank whispers. _Please. Don't go. Stay, stay in the world of the living. Don't pass on, please! You can do it… just keep breathing for a few minutes… then the paramedics will be here, and you'll be safe… Claire, stay awake!_

A few seconds of time elapses slowly, but it feels like centuries to Hank, seeing her chest move faintly up and down. For such a long time, Claire has been the patient Hank favored, and he remembers those flowers… those Asclepias flowers… she will never join their beauty again.

Claire Blunt's eyes slowly slide closed, and her arm falls to the ground.

Hank shuts his eyes and screams.

* * *

"Don't move!" the gunner yells frantically. "If any of you move, _I'll kill you!"_

Screams arise in the shops as everyone flees for the exit, determined not to lose their lives today. Some brave souls cower behind shelves, beams, and plants, seeing if they can help anyone in need. But the majority of the shoppers are all panicking and screaming, tripping over their own feet to escape. One woman gets too close to the gunner, and he grabs her by the neck, pulling her close, putting the gun against her head, holding her hostage as a huge man steps towards him.

"Who the hell are you?" the criminal screeches. "I'll shoot you if you come closer!"

_This has got to be the hundredth time I've heard that, _Hank thinks.

"Why… do you _hurt _people?" Hank fights the urge to scream, but anger has already moved into his voice. "Why do you… kill? _Why?"_

_Why. _That was one of the first words Claire had uttered to him. Hank remembers that day, coming into her room to check if she was okay, and her asking him if he was the doctor who had saved her, and then _why._

"Sh-Shut up!" the gunner cries. "No one appreciates what they have! I'm gonna _die _from bone cancer! No one can cure me!"

"And that's why you're killing innocent people? You of all people should know the fear of death!" Hank is an orthopedics expert, and knows the dangers of bone cancer, but why kill people? So they can experience it, too?

"_JUST SHUT UP!" _The gunner fires twice; the first bullet soars over Hank's right shoulder, but the second one takes him full in the shoulder.

Drops of blood splatter across his pristine white coat, and drip to the ground, just like Claire's blood, contaminating the beauty of the world. Hank ignores the unbearable pain, for Claire, and takes a few steps forwards.

"Who the hell are you?" In all of his life, the gunner has never seen someone get shot and not fall to the ground, and writhe in agony.

"I've had enough," Hank says, his voice strained with pain. "Please. Stop this. What good will it do to spread misery?

"Don't come near me!" the gunner yells. He releases his hostage, and jumps over the railings to the first floor below.

* * *

"Ugh… it hurts…" the gunner cries out in pain, twitching madly. "Help me…"

Hank runs downstairs, his shoulder complaining, but he makes his patients the first priority. He immediately sees the gunner, lying on the ground, yelling his head off.

"Your spine's broken," Hank says quietly. "Let's get you to a hospital."

His hands reach down and lift the gunner's form, just like the way he had held Claire. Funny, how Hank is saving the murderer, and failed to save the victim.

"Screw that!" A voice from the crowd echoes Hank's thoughts exactly. "He doesn't deserve to be saved!"

"Yeah, that's right!" another voice chimes in. "Kill the bastard!"

"He should rot in hell! Why are you trying to save him?"

"Maybe he's his accomplice! Don't let him get away!"

A ring of people have formed around Hank, still carrying the gunner, about to overwhelm him with their screams and yells. Thankfully, an even louder voice overpowers them all.

"What's going on? Get outta my damn way, jackasses!"

Hank sighs. Only Maria Torres talks like that. It's about time he speaks up, too.

"Do villains…" Hank chokes on his own voice, and starts again. "Do villains… _deserve to die? _If you take someone's life, is it right to have yours taken? _Please… _let me believe in humanity! I beg you… please, just let us through!"

Maria breaks through the wall of protesters, and joins Hank's side. Together, the two of them run off to join the race for life and death.

* * *

"Getting ready for surgery," Hank grunts.

"What?" Maria asks. "Hey, dimwit, you're hurt! There's no way you're…"

"No!" Hank booms. "Only I can save this man's life. I just know it… Maria, don't say anything about my wounds. Please."

_Not just my shoulder… but my wounded heart as well._

"Ugh! Fine, you moron. But… at the first sign of trouble, I'm swapping you out, got it?"

"I owe you one. Thanks."

_Why is he so much like that damn kid? _Maria thinks darkly. _Always begging to operate… first an amnesia victim, and now a gunshot victim… this better not go wrong._

"What do we know about this patient?" Hank asks, fingering the scalpel.

"Four years ago, the patient had a lung cancer operation. It must've metastasized to his spine from there. His spine was weakened from the tumor, and was crushed from the impact of the fall."

"My _god!" _Hank whispers in shock. "His spine's…"

"We're going to approach this by reshaping his spine and placing synthetic bones."

"We aren't going to extract the tumor?"

"Specialists at Concordia have deemed it too dangerous to excise. It can't be treated under these conditions."

Hank gives a sigh. There's no use arguing. "Let's begin the treatment. First, we must make an incision into the outer epidermis."

The cut is made, and Hank ventures in. Extensive damage to the spine is done. He drills away the injured area, doing the best he can along the way, trying harder than ever. _It feels wrong… how I'm trying my best to save this man, when I didn't try to save Clare at all…_

And then he sees the tumor, underneath the broken spine.

"Don't touch it, Hank!" the Chief yells.

"No!" Hank cries. "That mentality is how this young man was forsaken by the doctors he trusted! That's how he lost hope! Should we only try to save those who we know we can save? Is this the extent of our capacity for _justice? _Absolutely not! His death is on my hands! And I'd risk my life to save him!"

_Even if he murdered Claire…_

"Why are the doctors in this place such blockheads?" the chief grumbles infuriatingly. "But still… when you put it like that, I can't exactly back down, now, either. Do it, Hank!"

"Understood," says Hank gladly, and cuts the tumor out, preparing to extract it with the forceps.

"Hold it right there!" the Chief says. "This is no ordinary tumor. It's a soft spinal tumor. If you pull on it with too much force, it'll just tear."

Hank nods, and moves the tumor off. One moment later, another tumor shows up, which Hank extracts the same way.

A third, much larger tumor appears also, and after extraction, Hank gets ready to put in the synthetic bone.

The plate is screwed onto the spine to hold the synthetic bone in, and… "Rock solid!" Hank declares.

* * *

Gabe confronts Hank on the roof.

"Seriously, what the _hell _were you guys thinking?" Gabe asks.

"I'm sorry," Hank stammers.

"Look, if you'd killed him," Gabe says angrily, "The hospital would be at fault."

"I… don't have any excuses," says Hank, his face burning under his rough, dark skin.

"You don't ever think ahead, do you?" Gabe sighs. "So why'd you save him?"

"Why?" Hank says, prepared to give the same answer he's given multiple times today. "Well, life is wonderful. And I wanted him to see that too."

"Your heart's just too damn big, muttonhead," Gabe says. "Here."

Gabe shoves a clipboard in Hank's face.

"What's this?" Hank asks suspiciously.

"Is this your first time seeing one of those?" Gabe asks, grinning. "It's a _chart, _dummy."

Hank takes the chart, and within a few seconds of seeing it, all the weight lifts off his shoulders as his heart lightens in joy. A chart… for a patient… a patient who's _alive._

"You'd better thank Maria for resuscitating your patient," Gabe shrugs, watching Hank's huge figure shake as tears slide out of his eyes in happiness.

At the top of the chart is the name blazing into Hank's eyes: _Claire Blunt._

_

* * *

_*gasp* SHE'S ALIVE! Oh, joy. Claire Freebird... haha.

Anyways, yes, this is the mega chapter I've been working on. I Want To Believe... is it just me, or does it sound kinda like If You Can Dream, by katniss22? Mmm, mf?

I've realized that the previous chapters weren't as descriptive as I liked them to be, so when I finish all of this, right up to the finale of Patient Zero, I'll be doubling back and re-editing those little details I missed. Don't forget to review! :)


	23. Hank: Epilogue: Only a Hero

**EPILOGUE  
**_Only a Hero_

The entire hospital seems to shake as a certain doctor thunders down the orange-and-yellow halls of Resurgam. From her room, Claire Blunt can only sigh, for she knows exactly who is causing the walls to tremble.

Sure enough, Hank Freebird tumbles into the room, throwing the door wide open, gasping for air as his eyes land on Claire. _Claire. She's alive._

"You mind keeping it down a bit, Doc?" Claire asks playfully, a twinkle escaping her shining grey eyes. "This _is _a hospital."

"S-Sorry!" Hank stutters, again, failing to hear the lightheartedness in Claire's voice. "It's just that…"

"I'm just joking," Claire laughs. "Don't be so serious all the time."

Then, the most bizarre thing happens. Hank Freebird begins to laugh.

"Man," Claire murmurs, looking outside the window. The girl herself looks fine, her silver hair not a strand out of place, her wounds hidden underneath the hospital's lilac-colored robe. But she's not looking at her reflection through the window; she's looking at what lies beyond it. "I can't believe I survived… again. It's amazing to be alive, isn't it, Doc?"

"Of course it is!" Hank says, thoroughly relieved that Claire has finally gotten the message that life _is _wonderful.

* * *

Out on the streets of Portland, a masked gunner holds a young female hostage, his gun pressing against her temple. "If you take one step… I shoot!" he yells at the incoming police.

"Dammit," one officer curses. "If this keeps up…"

But it doesn't keep up. A blue-suited person jumps down from thin air, landing on his toes. Behind his mask, the gunner's eyes widen.

"No _way!" _he whispers in shock. "You're…"

"I am the ambassador of love and justice!" the man declares. "_I am Captain Eagle!"_

"Aaaah!" the criminal screams, as Hank takes one step forwards. "Not this guy!"

Hank Freebird grins from behind his mask. _Captain Eagle is back.

* * *

_

Well, well, well. We're done with Hank's story, and before, we were supposed to do Tomoe's story next, but you see, the walkthrough fk is watching does Gabe after Hank, and Tomoe is fifth. And fk is way too lazy to find the start of Tomoe's story, so she's just going to barge into mf's personal space and invade Gabe. So mf can go and have Tomoe.

Now, school starts tomorrow after our three-week Chinese New Year break, and except Gabe's chapters to be L-O-N-G. So hopefully, I'll get the prologue up in a few hours and the first chapter within a few days. Cheers! Don't forget to review!


	24. Gabe: Prologue: Overcast

**PROLOGUE  
**_Overcast_

Gabriel Cunningham blinks eyes his open, sleepily trying to figure out what has caused him to wake up. He slowly rises from the couch he had been napping on, tired eyes searching the source of that mysterious ringing sound that has invaded his dreams…

Gabe yawns, too lazy to pick up the phone, but instead, strides his way across the room to light up a cigarette. "I must've dozed off…"

The diagnostician collapses on the couch again, staring mindlessly at the phone number appearing on his sleek black telephone. He recognizes the number, all right, but he doesn't pick it up. Instead, his eyes wander to the clutters of files, notebooks, and loose charts scattering around his desk, waiting for the ringing to stop.

It does.

A voice mail comes through. "It's Lisa. I thought it'd be useless calling the house."

Gabe sighs. Lisa. His soon-to-be ex-wife.

"I wanna get Joshua's things next Sunday," Lisa continues. "I'm sure you won't be here anyhow. I'll drop the keys in the mailbox."

"Humph," Gabe groans, rising from his position on the couch. "Well then."

He walks over to the door of his office, and leaves.

* * *

This is one short prologue. Barely topped 200 words (201, to be exact, not counting the author's note).

Anyways, Gabe's story is among my favorite stories, second to Patient Zero (first) and Naomi's Story (second). So... here we go! I'll get cracking on the first one as soon as possible. AKA, now. At least SOMEBODY doesn't procrastinate, even if I write three times worse than mf.

For the chronological version, the next chapter is "30. Tomoe: Prologue: Chieftain's Daughter".


	25. Gabe: I: Signs of Anguish

**CHAPTER ONE  
**_Signs of Anguish_

Gabe sits on his couch, in his office, the next day, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as always. In his mind are thoughts about Joshua, Lisa, and his current family problems. If it hadn't been for Esha knocking on the door, he would've sat there for centuries and never moved.

"Gabe?" the chief asks. "I'm coming in!"

Esha walks in without Gabe's permission, and trailing behind her are Emma and Darnell, carrying someone… no, some_thing._

"What's going on?" Gabe grumbles. "No one told me I'm getting a roommate."

_Even if I am, they'd move out as soon as they discover I smoke in my sleep, _Gabe thinks darkly.

"Tada!" Esha Patel smiles. "Isn't it _amazing? _Let me introuce you to your new partner: the RONI system!"

Esha points at the thing Emma and Darnell had been carrying: a silver-and-blue state-of-art computer complete with wheels, a sound system, screens, and a microphone. And who knows what else?

"Esha," Gabe sighs, "My office isn't a _storage room."_

"This baby's built to help diagnosticians like you!" the chief says brightly, refusing to accept a no as an answer. "It sorts and reviews records. It also has a disease database!"

"Amazing," says Gabe sarcastically. "I'm sure even NASA will be impressed. So if we're sued, the records are here. Thanks for the trust."

Gabe turns angrily back to his regular desktop computer.

"Gabe, just try it out," Esha persuades. "I'm sure that you'll like it!"

"Right, I'm sure," Gabe scowls. "If you ask me, this thing's just–"

Gabe doesn't get to complete his sentence, because suddenly, RONI's screen pops to life with a welcoming blue light.

"Good morning, Dr. Cunningham,"a soft female voice says.

Gabe's eyes bug out and his cigarette falls out of his mouth. "For the love of _God, _this thing _talks?"_

"I'm sure you'll get along just fine!" Esha calls merrily. "I'll leave you two alone, now!"

"Later!" Emma says happily, and strides out of the room, Darnell and the chief close behind her.

"Wait, Esha!" Gabe complains, but the chief is long gone. "Great. What am I supposed to do with this thing?"

"Condition identified: deep sighing,_" _says RONI. "A possible sign of cardiac neurosis, caused by fatigue. Recommend ingestion of beta blockers or tranquilizers."

"Mm-hm," Gabe hums, lighting another cigarette. "Great. Thanks for the tip. Look, I've got a favor to ask, since you're so _smart."_

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "What is your request?"

"Just don't talk anymore unless I ask you to, okay?" Gabe responds. "Just sit there, like a rock. Ya got it?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI obediently. "But my composition is 82% petroleum-processed materials. With my 10% mineral base, I cannot be a very convincing rock."

Gabe's hand meets his forehead with a slap. A grimace forms around the corner of his lips.

Thankfully, a knock comes at the door. Gabe's first patient of the day. "Hold on, one sec!" he calls, both to the door and the computer.

Glad to be out of the supernatural computer's infectious range, Gabe rises from his armchair and answers the door.

* * *

"So," says Gabe, jabbing RONI's metallic frame. "How do I use you?"

"Examine the patient and enter in all observed conditions," says RONI. "Then I will calculate the most probably disease. Currently…"

"Hey, just one step at a time here, buddy," says Gabe. "I'm not a robot!"

"Correct," says RONI, taking things quite literally. "There is a 90% probability that you are human."

"You can get back to me on that 10% some other time," says Gabe, horrified that he will have to spend the remainder of his lifetime with a _computer. _"Now, let's start the diagnosis."

* * *

"Um… hello."

Fourteen-year-old Nicole Summers sits in Gabe's office, her blonde hair flowing freely down her head, to about her shoulders. Her blue eyes are filled with worry and nervousness. A green-and-white school uniform, complete with a dark tie, are her clothes for the day, with a miniskirt and black leggings. She was reported to be a student from a private school, and had been having breathing problems.

"No need to be nervous," says Gabe. "Just relax."

"Oh," says Nicole. "Okay."

"Well then," says Gabe, fully aware that talking to RONI will only make Nicole Summers even more nervous than she is now. "Are you ready, Miss Super-Robot?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "But I am not a super robot. I am a diagnostics assistant."

"Whatever," says Gabe sharply, hate beginning to set over him. "Just stop talking, and let's start the consultation." He turns to the girl, who is staring at the computer as if it were a man-eating ladybug. "Now, let's see what you've got to say. Why'd you come to the hospital?"

"Um…" she stammers, "I'm in the school choir. There's an important competition coming up soon, but my throat feels all weird for some reason."

_Hm… _Gabe thinks. _An abnormality in the throat. I need to find a more specific symptom…_

"It's kind of hard to inhale," Nicole continues, "And I can't really catch my breath between notes."

_So she's having trouble breathing. It's a light case of dyspnea._

Gabe interrupts the girl's talk. "RONI, can you record the patient's symptom?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "Congratulations! You received the symptom _Dyspnea!"_

"What the?" Gabe holds back a swear word just in time. "Do you need to say it like that? You make it sound like we're playing a video game or something."

"That is my default syntax and inflection for new record entries," RONI protests. "Will it affect the diagnosis? I have a variety of templates in my datatbase if you would prefer another."

"Change it," Gabe growls. "This isn't a game, you know. What were they thinking when they put you together?"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, her voice with no trace of guilt or shame. "Changing my expression at the end of the sentence and observations. New symptom observed: _Dyspnea."_

"Eh, that'll do," says Gabe, too tired to argue on with RONI. "It's about as close to normal as you're gonna get. Nicole? Keep going."

Nicole stares at the doctor, as if he is crazy (in this case, he might as well be), but continues. "Actually, I had to take the day off from school yesterday, too. I was getting short of breath just sitting still, and my heart would start pounding…"

_So you've got palpitations and shortness of breath, even while resting? Time for questions._

"What about now?" Gabe asks, intrigued. "Are you still experiencing these symptoms?"

"Oh, yes," says Nicole. "I've been feeling like this since yesterday."

"I see," says Gabe. "I'll need to auscultate you later on. Keep going."

"There is something good that's happened!" Suddenly, Nicole Summers is all smiles. "I've never been able to stick to a diet before… but lately I've been able to lose weight, no matter what I eat!"

_Lost weight? Well, she seems rather happy about it…_

"Losing weight without doing anything isn't normal," says Gabe. "We should add that to the list."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Decrease in Weight."_

"What am I talking about?" Nicole stammers, flushing red. "A-Anyways, that's it!"

"Alright, that should do it," says Gabe. "There's no need for further consultation."

"Certainly, Doctor," RONI interrupts. "Please continue with the auscultation. Signs of palpitations and shortness of breath and be detected by the patient's speech."

"Yeah, yeah," Gabe sighs. "You know, it sounds like you're the one giving _me _orders."

"Doctor," says RONI, ignoring Gabe's words, "The auscultation exam is now available."

_I know! _Gabe thinks bitterly, but puts that aside for later, and turns back to Nicole. "Alright, I'm going to take a listen. Could you lift up your clothing for me?"

"Um, okay," says Nicole. "Th-This is a little embarrassing…"

"Doctor," RONI admonishes. "Please express more consideration when examining patients of the opposite gender. The social and legal intricacies of such interactions call for greater care to avoid unnecessary–"

"Hey now!" Gabe protests. "I'm just using a stethoscope. How else do you expect me to examine her?"

Nicole's face turns into an even darker shade of red. "Uh… I'll be alright!"

"Aw, look, you just made this whole deal even more awkward for her," Gabe moans, picking up the stethoscope. He presses it against her lungs, and realizes the problem immediately.

_The patient's breathing pretty rapidly…_

"RONI, make a note of it," Gabe orders.

"Yes, Doctor," RONI obeys. "New symptom observed: _Increased Breathing."_

Or tachypnea, if you wanted scientific terms. Same thing.

_Her heart rate is also elevated, _Gabe thinks. "RONI, record that symptom."

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Increased Heart Rate."_

Tachycardia.

"The more I examine the patient, the more incongruities I'm finding," Gabe murmurs to himself. "Time to perform a visual exam."

"Doctor, please perform a visual exam and determine the patient's symptom," says RONI, mouthing off.

_I never thought they built nagging machines, _Gabe grumbles to himself.

Gabe walks closer to the girl, and examines her. _There appears to be swelling on her neck…_

"All right, I'm sorry, but I need to touch it just a little," says Gabe, pointing at the swelling on Nicole's neck.

"Oh, yes," says Nicole. "Please do so."

Gabe presses a finger on it. "Does this hurt?"

"It does hurt a little," Nicole admits.

"Well, I think we should do a CT scan. RONI, make arrangements for image analysis."

"Yes, Doctor. I am initiating the approval process. Please designate a date for this procedure and list any other pertinent details."

"What?" Gabe asks incredulously. "It's for today. Immediately. Right now. Capiche? There's got to be an open slot for her."

"Doctor, are you aware of hospital regulations?"

"No one ever got better by following regulations," Gabe spits. "Now hurry up and do it!"

"Yes, Doctor. Request sent. New symptom observed: _Swollen neck."_

A few minutes later, Nicole is led off to do a CT scan. A few more minutes later, thanks to Resurgam's high-tech, state-of-art machinery, the CT scans are made, and Nicole is back to sitting in front of Gabe.

Then, the diagnostician notices Nicole's fingers…

_Her hands are trembling. That's not a good sign._

"RONI. Make a note."

"Yes, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Trembling Fingertips."_

"Well, that's all the obvious symptops," Gabe sighs. "Let's end the exam for now."

"Thank you very much!" Nicole says happily.

"Don't thank me just yet. The exam isn't over. You may have to come back here, depending on the results, okay?"

"I'll do just that," Nicole agrees.

"I'll be just stepping out for a minute," says Gabe, and leaves the exam room.

RONI goes with him like a lovesick puppy, tagging onto his heels. Her wheels slide smoothly on the floors of Gabe's office, babbling as they go. "Dr. Cunningham, I am obligated to provide you with instructions on hospital protocol. Please return to your office if you wish to perform a diagnosis or record your progress. Also, the preparations for the CT examination you requested earlier have been made. Please proceed to the image analysis lab if you wish to check the results of the examination."

"I'm not an intern, RONI," Gabe snaps. "I know how this hospital works."

Gabe pushes open the door to the Image Analysis lab, and RONI still keeps talking.

"This room is allotted for doctors to confirm and review images of their patient."

"The CT's ready, right?" Gabe asks eagerly. "Well, let's check it out."

"Yes, Doctor. Now opening the image file."

RONI proceeds to jabber on and on about the history and details of CT exams, until Gabe, finally impatient, cuts her off short.

"You know I went to med school, right? And not online classes or something. I'm an actual doctor."

"I'm aware of your credentials," says RONI. "However, this explanation is written into my default settings."

"Is that so?" Gabe asks sarcastically. "Well, it's a good thing they didn't program you with anything useful, eh?"

Gabe opens the image of the patient's neck. "Time to start looking for a reason behind the swelling in her neck."

Gabe immediately finds the problem in the CT exam. "A portion of her thyroid gland is swollen," he muses. "This'll help with the diagnosis. I should go back to my room and sort out all these symptoms."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Swollen Thyroid Gland."_

"Well then, time to eliminate some candidates with the symptoms we've got," Gabe yawns, stepping into his cluttered office. RONI goes with him, obviously. "Show me the likely conditions from the symptoms we found."

"Yes, Doctor. Now displaying all potential diagnosis candidates."

Gabe looks at RONI's screen: _Painless Thyroiditis, Grave's Disease, Plummer's Disease, Iron Deficiency Anemia, Alcoholism, _and _Hyperventilation._

"_Alcoholism?" _Gabe snorts. "Come on, that's unlikely."

"The symptoms are consistent with it, so it must be a viable diagnosis candidate," RONI replies obnoxiously.

"Come on…"

"Do not be fooled by the patient's appearance," RONI warns. "Remain calm."

Gabe sighs, and proceeds to match symptoms with the cases already set out before him. It's only a few minutes before he finds the answer to the girl's case: Plummer's Disease.

"Problem solved!" Gabe sighs in relief, and proceeds to get RONI to inform the hospital.

_Maybe it's not so bad that I have an assistant computer who doesn't even take offense, _Gabe thinks tiredly as he dozes off to sleep.

* * *

*sigh* I know, the ending was really rushed, but you see... *sigh* The walkthrough somehow cut off right in the middle of the case, so I had to make up the ending.

And I don't have RONI's humor, so naturally, it failed.

Sorry.

Well, this one is a short one. The next one is the Jacob Tilman case (which, by the way, is CR-S01's first patient) which will _not _be fun. And mf, keep in mind that I'm only doing this for you, because you'd have an even tougher time sucking it through. Now go to Tomoe/Naomi. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW.

For the chronological version, the next chapter is "31. Tomoe: I: Insecure Smiles".


	26. Gabe: II: Blazing Darkness

Now, before you all start yelling at me saying how I'm late and all, please take a look at the word count: 5,340. I'm not homework-less anymore and school has started, and I only have about half an hour to an hour of free time per day, which is mostly spent on this. Yeah, it's very long. Expect slower updates from now on; Gabe's chapters get longer and longer. Thankfully, Tomoe's are shorter. :) But Naomi's are the longest of them all... oh, I'll stop wasting your time and you can just read it.

Psst... fk wrote this. As usual.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO  
**_Blazing Darkness_

"Hmm…"

Gabe glares at the cards in his hands, growling softly as he tries to think of a way to beat RONI. Who, obviously, defeats him as easily as Tomoe can shoot a bull's eye.

"Finished," says RONI. "That brings my total to 298 wins in 298 games."

Gabe throws his cards onto the table, revealing a few cards: a Five of Spades, Seven of Hearts, Ten of Clubs, and a few other unrecognizable features. "Dammit… this is a waste of time. You're unbeatable!"

"Not if my opponent's intellect surpasses my processing speed," says RONI obnoxiously.

"Uh huh," Gabe sighs. "And how fast is that?"

"My processing speed is roughly one QIPS," RONI sings, though not literally, but you should know what I mean… right?

"Q… I… _what?" _Gabe cries. "Stop using words people don't know!"

_Even though I only have a 90% chance of being human, _Gabe thinks darkly.

"I mean a quadrillion instructions per second, Doctor," says RONI, with no emotions to Gabe's angry words.

"Sounds like you're just trying to make fun of me," Gabe mutters, thinking that he probably can't even process one instruction per second, much less a quadrillion.

Suddenly, an outburst outside stops the fight between RONI and Gabe.

"Ow!" one person roars in pain, "Hey, grandpa! Stop struggling!"

"Let go!" another voice scowls, and judging from the voice, it seems like that he's an old man. "I don't need a doctor! Do you know who I am?"

Gabe sighs in relief, and walks over to open the door, glad to be free of RONI's sight. However, when he opens the door, he finds an even more disturbing sight waiting for him: an old, grumpy man with crinkles on his forehead, sitting in a wheelchair; two tall men with suits and ties, most likely security guards; and the most frightening sight ever, one that Gabe would've traded for RONI in under one second flat, is an angry Maria Torres.

"Tch!" she mutters. "You damn, stubborn old man!"

"What's with all the noise?" Gabe scowls, torn between facing Maria or RONI. He'd pick RONI; at least a computer can't punch him. "Go fight somewhere else."

"Hey, moron!" Maria greets. "This old fart's your patient! Now go examine him!"

Gabe wishes that he had never opened the door.

"You mean… him?" Gabe asks incredulously, pointing to the _old fart_, sitting in a wheelchair, with a very annoyed look on his face. "He looks pretty spry. Why don't we just let him leave?"

"He was passed out on his floor!" Maria screams in anger. "Now _shut up _and examine him!"

Gabe gives a groan. The last thing he needs is for RONI to comment on his incapability to navigate his way around his own office. This guy may be male, at least, but it doesn't mean that Gabe wants to touch him.

Thankfully, the old fart comes to the rescue. "This is absurd! I don't have time for this!"

_Two against one, _Gabe thinks smartly. _We win._

And then Gabe notices something that changes his mind completely.

"Hold up a minute," he frowns, making big strides towards the patient. "Tell me… how long has your leg been shaking like that?"

Indeed, the old man's leg is shaking very badly, even trembling his elbow that rests on top of it.

"Huh? My leg?" the senior lies, and it's easy to tell the transparent statement. "What're you talking about?"

Just then, his leg gives another quiver, proving his previous declaration perfectly false.

Gabe sighs, and is reluctant to accept the patient, but saving lives will matter. "Maria, get a bed ready for him. We're gonna need him overnight."

"You got it!" says Maria gladly, thankful for the victory. "Ha! In your _face!"_

"_What?" _the old man cries incredulously. "A moment ago, you said I could leave!"

Maria leaves the room, and Gabe walks quickly over to his desk, ignoring the man's words as he begins to fill out charts.

"Hey, are you even listening to me? Hey! What is this all about? Do you _know _who I _am?"_

Gabe sighs. "I always get stuck with the difficult ones…"

**+++PHASE ONE+++**

"So, RONI," Gabe asks, well out of the man's hearing range. "Who the heck is that guy?"

"He is Jacob Tillman, Assistant Secretary of the HHS, Doctor," RONI informs.

"_Assistant Secretary?" _Gabe snorts, not impressed. "A politician, huh? Ugh… I should've just sent him off with a bunch of pills…"

"No, Doctor," RONI instructs fiercely, "He is suffering from an ailment of some sort."

"Yeah, yeah," Gabe yawns. "Too bad we can't pick our own patients, eh? Oh well, we might as well go take a look. Shall we…?"

Gabe leaves his office and goes to the examination room, already finding Jacob Tillman seated in a chair. He closes the door after RONI wheels in, and sets himself comfortably in his own seat.

"Now… how are you feeling?" Gabe asks with a false merry tone. "Have you been eating?"

"Hmph… you fool!" Tillman snorts, avoiding the question completely. "How _dare _you force me into this hospital!"

"What a serious pain in the…" Gabe mumbles under his breath, and then, out loud, he says, "Let's begin the exam, RONI. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "Whenever you are ready."

Oh yeah. RONI's always ready.

"Well then," says Gabe, "Let's start with you telling me about the symptoms you're experiencing."

"I'm not saying anything, you jackanape!"

Gabe is quite horrified, because no one has ever called him a jackanape, especially when he's trying to _help _someone.

"So that's how it's gonna be," Gabe sighs, trying to get this done as fast as possible. "Well, go right on ahead if you don't want to ever be discharged from this hospital."

"Aaarg…" Tillman lets out an angry growl before agreeing very reluctantly. "You utter _bastard! _Fine! Ask your questions!"

Gabe repeats his question, and Tillman starts his ramble way off topic.

"I didn't ask to be examined! Yes, I collapsed, but I simply wasn't feeling well! I'm not as young as I used to be, and I've been under quite a lot of stress. There's so much to be done, and you're not helping! Quit wasting my time and issue my release! Being stuck in this stinking examination room is killing my appetite. Honestly, I haven't eaten much, but I feel queasy and bloated…"

_So he's been feeling bloated, huh? That's not to say he isn't already a bit on the chunky siiiiide… _Gabe sings out the last part.

"RONI," Gabe orders, "Get a CT scan. Oh, and warn the lab guys they may need a forklift to get him onto the table."

"I will send the request at once. Also, I may use a slightly different working for that second part."

"Hey, you!" Tillman protests. "You don't need to examine me! I refuse this treatment!"

"Hey, if I don't look in your stomach, we'll never know what's wrong with you," Gabe says seriously.

"There is no reason for this! If you think it's necessary, then prove it!"

"You're really getting on my nerves," Gabe glares. "RONI, ignore him and send in the request."

Much to his surprise, RONI refuses. "I cannot, Doctor. All examinations require patient consent."

"Ugh!" Gabe howls. "You're as stubborn as he is, you know that? Fine… after I narrow down the diagnosis candidates and prove an exam is necessary… we'll see…"

"That's standard protocol, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Bloated Abdomen."_

"So what?" Tillman scowls. "It doesn't matter! Just sign your little forms and discharge me! Looking at your stupid face makes me even more nauseous!"

Gabe tries a different approach. "For an auscultation, can you lift up your clothes for me, g- I mean, Mister?" Gabe bites back the world _geezer _at the last second.

Tillman acts to be insulted by the very idea. "I refuse! I'll _sue _you for sexual harassment!"

"_Sexual?" _Gabe's everlasting pride is even more dented than Tillman's. "This coot's looking for any excuse to get him out of this exam…"

"Let me be clear," Tillman bites every word down clearly. "No! You'll get nothing from me!"

Gabe sighs and averts to the last approach, one that wouldn't need Tillman participating at all: looking at his charts. Immediately, a few lines come out to be quite disturbing.

_Platelet Count  
__Normal: 15.0 – 35.0  
__Measured: 8.0_

"The platelet count," Gabe murmurs under his breath. "It seems unusually low."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, without Gabe even ordering her to add that to the records. "New symptom observed: _Low Platelet Count."_

_Total Bilirubin  
__Normal: 0.2 – 1.0  
__Measured: 2.1_

"His total bilirubin level seems a bit high," says Gabe. "RONI, make a record of that."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High Total Bilirubin Level."_

"Hold on," Gabe gasps, suddenly realizing something. "If his total bilirubin is this high, he should have jaundice in the whites of his eyes."

"Correct, Doctor," RONI half-praises, "But the status of the patient's eyeballs cannot be confirmed."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Gabe sighs, his brief moment of victory evaporating into thin air. "That geezer's eyes are too squinty for me to examine… and somehow, I doubt he'll cooperate with us and let me take a look…"

"Doctor, perhaps you could try… angering the patient?"

"Eh? What good will _that _do?"

"I've noticed that Chief Patel's eyes are frequently wide open when conversing with you. It is a physiological response for humans to open their eyes wider when they are angry."

"You're pretty observant, aren't you?" Gabe asks suspiciously, because the theory that RONI is half-human, half-computer hasn't been erased from his mind. "All right, I don't know that I like the example that you gave, but let's try your tactic."

Gabe puts that for later, and keeps looking at the chart.

_AST  
__Normal: 10.0 – 40.0  
__Measured: 247.0_

"His AST level is rather high," Gabe admits. "RONI, record the symptom."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High AST Level."_

_ALT  
__Normal: 5.0 – 40.0  
__Measured: 168.0_

"He has a pretty elevated ALT level," Gabe muses. "RONI, make a note of that."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High ALT Level."_

_Cholesterol  
__Normal: 130.0 – 220.0  
__Measured: 103.0_

"Interesting… his cholesterol level is unusually low. RONI, make a note of that too."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, and Gabe wonders if RONI is only built with that one line. "New symptom observed: _Low Total Cholesterol Level."_

Gabe has found all the abnormalities in the charts, and heads back to the exam room to take a look at the patient, but most of all, angering him.

"Now… let me see your stomach," Gabe says casually, strolling over to his chair and plopping down in front o fhim. "C'mon, lift up your clothing."

"_Never!" _Tillman shouts, and Gabe flinches. "I don't have any obligation to cooperate!"

"Oh, I get it," Gabe laughs. "You're shy about your gut, huh? Too many steak dinners? Don't be a shamed. I'm not someone to judge a patient, no matter how fat they are."

_Yeah right, _Gabe's inner soul says.

_Shut up, _Gabe's outer mind says.

"Y-You son of a _bitch!" _Tillman roars, and his eyes widen immediately. "You can't talk to me like that!"

"You gettin' angry, huh?" Gabe snorts. "Great, now just stay like that…"

"I don't need your jokes," Tillman glowers. "How dare you insult me! I want my lawyer!"

_All right… maybe I went a little far, but that's fine. Now's my chance to check his eyes._

"Ah, there's his peepholes!" Gabe whispers to himself excitedly. "Haha, I guess making people angry can be a useful talent sometimes…" _Too bad it doesn't apply to RONI, who never shows any emotion at all. _"Now, what can I find here?"

Gabe notices the problem immediately. "Discoloration on the whites of his eyes… looks like jaundice. RONI, mark it down."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Jaundice."_

Gabe hurries back to his office to see the diseases RONI have given. _Malignant Liver Tumor. Acute Hepatitis. Congestive Liver Failure. Bililary Infection. Chronic Pancreatitis._

Gabe successfully matches all the symptoms with Congestive Liver Failure, and smiles in the sweet glory of victory. "All right," he grins, "The only remaining symptom can be gained through a CT."

"I concur, Doctor," says RONI. "The necessity for a CT examination is undeniable."

"Excellent," says Gabe, relieved for once. "Looks like our favorite patient's about to get a CT scan…"

"I must advise against teaching any _lessons, _Doctor," RONI scolds. "Patients muts be treated in an appropriate manner."

"Oh, I know, RONI," Gabe scowls right back. "I'll treat him just how he deserves!"

Gabe enters the examination room again, and finds Jacob Tillman seated in the exact same spot as usual. "Hey, geezer," Gabe says. "I'm gonna prove to you that you need a CT scan."

"Wh-Wh-_WHAT?" _Tillman gasps, frightened. _How in the name of America did that guy… find out… so quickly, without my cooperation?_

Gabe cackles loudly. "RONI, show him."

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI, though her voice is calm and serene. "This is the record of the current diagnostic progress."

RONI's screen flickers to life as she shows Tillman the results of the congestive liver failure.

"And now, you need a CT exam," says Gabe smugly. "Is that all right with you, Mr. Assistant Secretary?"

"_No,_ you fool!" Tillman shouts stubbornly.

"Well then, let's hop to it!" Gabe smirks, pulling up another trick from his sleeve. "RONI, get us some approval, will ya?"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "Sending the request now."

Tillman lets out a growl halfway between a kitten's and a tiger's. "Suit yourself!"

Jacob Tillman storms from the room to take the CT exam. Gabe waits very patiently, and a while later, he comes back. RONI is right there to mock him.

"Congratulations, Doctor. The patient's CT examination is now available."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks," Gabe yawns. "That was a breeze."

However, when he enters the image analysis room, the breeze turns darker and heavier, filled with the stormy black clouds hanging above Gabe's head.

"Ugh… I'm exhausted… why'd it hafta take so long just to do an image analysis?"

"The images from the CT exam are ready," says RONI briskly, ignoring Gabe's complaints utterly. "Please look over the results, Doctor."

Gabe sighs and stumbles over to the screens, where he finds a few CT pictures of Tillman's abdomen.

Gabe carefully looks at the pictures, comparing them with the normal sample pictures.

"Hey, now…" he murmurs, realizing a problem, "The color difference confirms that ascites have formed… Well, this explains the bloated abdomen. RONI, make a note of it. Write down the patient's got a pool in his abdomen."

"I will abbreviate that, Doctor," RONI sighs. "New symptom observed: _Ascites Accumulation."_

"His liver's also the size of a penguin," Gabe sighs, eyes turning downcast. "That ain't normal."

"New symptom observed," RONI chimes in. "_Swollen liver."_

"We've got all the materials we need," says Gabe. "Let's continue with the diagnosis back in my office."

Gabe returns, and matches everything with what the symptoms have pointed to all along: congestive liver failure.

"Congestive liver failure," Gabe says softly. "It's common for this disease to be just a complication of something linked with heart failure…"

"Would you like to make a note of the congestive liver failure and continue the diagnosis?" RONI asks.

"Better safe than sorry," Gabe sighs, even though he would be glad to be rid of the old geezer for even a second. "Let's continue on with the diagnosis, RONI. Fill out the necessary paperwork."

"Understood, Doctor. Please begin investigating the patient's primary disease."

Gabe nods reluctantly and turns to the patient's chart, determined to get rid of this old fart as fast as possible.

"Congestive liver failure… possible heart failure link…" Gabe murmurs absentmindedly.

"Yes, Doctor," RONI echoes. "If left alone, his condition may become critical."

"He's gonna complain, but we can't send him home until we find out what his problem is."

"Yes, Doctor," RONI drones on. "I have obtained approval to continue diagnosis."

"All right," Gabe grumbles. "Let's go!"

**+++PHASE TWO+++**

"So… you understand?" Gabe questions, eyes glaring at Tillman's. "It's exactly how I just explained it. From the symptoms I found, I can tell you you've got congestive liver failure."

"If you know what the hell is wrong with me, make the damn diagnosis so I can get out of here!" Tillman scowls.

"Unfortunately," Gabe yawns, "I can't do that. I need to look into why you even have congestive liver failure in the first place."

"What?" Tillman roars. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Not at all, I'm afraid. The primary cause for congestive liver failure is heart failure."

"Heart failure?" Tillman whispers alarmingly, "Don't tell me…"

"Looks like you do have an idea about this!" Gabe says, silently cheering for victory.

"Of course not! I have no idea whatsoever!" Tillman tries to lie, but it's too late. The damage has been done.

"Alright, pal," says Gabe, getting back to business. "Let's get clear on one thing. I'm a doctor. Even if a patient's a grumpy old man like yourself, I still have to save his life. So whether you like it or not, you're gonna tell me _everything _I need to know to diagnose you."

"Damn…" Tillman exhales loudly. "Suit yourself!"

Jacob Tillman shifts uncomfortably in his seat and crosses his arms.

"Heart failure?" he rants. "That's preposterous! Yes, two years ago I did, but this has nothing to do with that!"

"I see," says Gabe. "Two years ago, huh? What was that about?"

"That's all water under the bridge!" Tillman glowers. "It has nothing to do with you!"

"Well, I'm stumped," Gabe sighs. _Looks like he still wants to hide things from me._

"Arguing with you is making me feel faint, you quack!" Tillman continues. However, this is just another trap he's stepping into.

_Feel faint, huh? Looks more like trouble breathing. And that's not even my fault, you old geezer._

"RONI, make a note of Mr. Tillman's shortness of breath." Gabe is unenthusiastic to add a _mister _to the old fart's name, but it's hard enough keeping him in a good mood already.

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Dyspnea."_

"If I really do get sick because of you, I'll sue your ass to the ground!" Tillman continues to protest, unaware of the diagnosing going on around him. "The country… this country needs me! What's a little chest pain, compared to the wellbeing of our country?"

_Chest pain, huh? I almost missed that one…_

"RONI, write that one down too. Seriously, it's like pulling teeth with this guy!"

"Understood, Doctor," RONI obeys. "New symptom observed: _Chest pain."_

"All right," Gabe sighs, feeling that he has pushed enough out of Tillman for now, and that he will get down to the mysterious heart failure two years ago. "Time for the EKG. Let's check this guy's heart."

Gabe opens up the file containing the EKG of Tillman's heart. Only years of expertise can keep Gabe's eyes alert and peeled for signs of trouble, and trouble comes indeed.

"The Q waves are too deep," he notes. "This isn't the activity of a normal heart. RONI, write that down."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Abnormal Q Waves."_

Quickly, Gabe follows up to that previous symptom: "Odd. The T waves are showing negativity in this portion… How bizarre… RONI, add that to the list."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Negative T Waves."_

Gabe leaves the EKG charts and heads for the diagnostic charts instead. Something is amiss… he sees that immediately.

_Blood Pressure  
__Normal: 110.0 – 140.0  
__Measured: 85.0_

"All right," Gabe sighs. "The patient's blood pressure is unusually low. RONI, add that to his file."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Low Blood Pressure."_

_BNP  
__Normal: 0.0 – 18.0  
__Measured: 430.0_

"What the hell…?" Gabe whispers, shocked. "The BNP level in his blood is abnormally high… RONI, that's worth recording."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High BNP Level."_

_That's all we're going to find from here, _Gabe thinks, and sets down Tillman's charts, finally picking up the stethoscope he had been so eager to use.

Okay, maybe not eager.

Especially not after he takes a close hearing at his heart.

"On top of S1 and S2, I can hear some additional heart rhythms… S3 and S4," Gabe murmurs under his breath. "RONI, jot this down."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _S3 and S4."_

Gabe shifts the stethoscope over to the lungs. "There's some odd sounds in his breathing. Discontinuous sounds. RONI, did you get that one?"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Discontinuous Sounds."_

"Well," Gabe says, "Looking at the symptoms until now, there seems to be an abnormality in the myocardium… RONI, get us approval for an X-ray."

"Request complete," says RONI, always one step ahead of Dr. Cunningham. "The X-ray examination is now available."

"All right," says Gabe, astonished by RONI's skills. "Let's take a look at them."

He trudges over to the Image Analysis Room, and opens the X-ray files. Needless to say, RONI babbles as soon as the images appear.

"The X-ray is the most common…"

"Ya don't say!" Gabe retorts. "I can't believe I'm getting lectured on X-rays at my age!"

He ignores the rest of RONI's ramble and goes onto finding abnormalities in the heart; and then RONI can shut up.

"His heart's too large," Gabe says. "There's definitely an abnormality after all. To look at the movement of the myocardium, an echocardiogram would be ideal… hey, RONI, do you think he can sit through the exam?"

"Doctor, I am required to remind you that a patient's consent is needed before an examination."

"I knew you'd say that," Gabe mutters. "Well, we can always narrow down the list of candidates again if we need to persuade him. But let's try going to the exam room, just in case."

"Understood, Doctor," RONI replies. "New symptom observed: _Enlarged Heart."_

Gabe runs back to the exam room, eager to end this diagnostic. "So, we found an abnormality in your heart after all," he says the moment he walks through the door. "And that means our next step is to proceed with echocardiography."

"I refuse!" Tillman declines, just as expected. "How dare you treat me like some leper!"

"Yeah, I get it," Gabe sighs. "Stubborn as usual. Well, then let's talk about your past. What happened to you two years ago?"

Maybe Gabe can push that out of him instead…

"Hmph."

"So you aren't gonna tell me about that either, huh?" Gabe says. "Nothing? Well then, I'm stumped. Guess I'll have to find a hint from the information I've got…"

Gabe leaves the examination room and crosses over to the office, where he begins to sort out the diseases and symptoms. At Dilated Cardiomyopathy, Gabe is finally relieved to find a case where all the symptoms match up.

"Well, the symptoms seem to all add up," he murmurs. "Dilated Cardiomyopathy. That's one serious disease."

"Echocardiography is absolutely necessary to properly diagnose dilated Cardiomyopathy," RONI pipes up.

"Yeah, but we'll need some strong evidence if we're gonna convince him," Gabe sighs. The two diagnosticians – the maybe-human and maybe-computer – are stumped for a few seconds, and then Gabe takes one look at the last sentence of the article on Dilated Cardiomyopathy.

_The exact cause of this disease is unknown, but current theories note a relevancy to viral myocarditis._

"Wait… _'a relevancy to viral myocarditis'?" _Gabe exclaims, shocked. "Don't tell me _that's _what happened two years ago!"

"Doctor, should we return to the examination room?"

"Yeah," Gabe agrees. "That damn old geezer… this isn't funny anymore."

Tillman still thinks it's entertaining to insult the diagnostician, though, because Gabe gets the same old greeting when he enters the examination room.

"You again, you quack?" Tillman addresses. "I will not let you examine me!"

"Yeah, that's fine," says Gabe. "I've got a plan this time too."

"What?" Tillman asks skeptically. "What kind of scheme are you running here?"

"I dunno," says Gabe airily. "Just toying with the thought of leaking some interesting facts to the press… A certain politician who had viral myocarditis two years ago and collapsed due to a heart disease."

"Wha…" Jacob Tillman, for probably the first time in his life, is lost for words. "You bastard! How the _hell _do you know about…?"

"Bingo, huh?" asks Gabe slyly. "So it _was _viral myocarditis then!"

"What?" Tillman gapes. "Don't tell me… did you…"

"Oh yeah," Gabe adds, "I lied to you. I needed confirmation that it was indeed viral myocarditis two years ago."

"You _bastard!" _Tillman screams. "How dare you? Who do you think I am? I'm not putting up with this any longer. I'm leaving!"

Tillman then lets out a huge string of swear words that will even make Maria Torres impressed.

"THAT'S IT!" Gabe shouts, his normally outgoing demeanor finally ruined by the old politician as his voices raises up a notch, yelling fiercely in Tillman's face. "Now you listen to me. It doesn't matter who you are or what kind of powers you have. I'm a doctor! And as long as you're sitting in front of me, you're _nothing more than a patient!_ Now, if you understand me, then shut up and let me do my job!"

Tillman's face turns into an ugly splotch of red and a growl lets loose from his lips, but Gabe ignores that and turns to his assistant computer, who, for once, seems also to be shocked mute.

"RONI, send a request for echocardiography. We've got a date with the image analysis lab…"

"Request sent, Doctor," says RONI hastily. "The echocardiography is now available."

Gabe rushes into the lab, eager to be out of Tillman's presence. RONI, no matter how urgent the event is, gives Gabe a fully detailed lecture on the background of echocardiography.

"Thanks," says Gabe sarcastically. "I had no idea. I mean, it was _my _decision to run this exam on him… but whatever."

"Doctor, I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"No," Gabe sighs. "Carry on."

Gabe picks up the first picture and frowns. "Why is this picture not as clear as the other ones? _ROOOOOOOOONI? _There's a bad image here…"

"It actually lies within the acceptable limits," says RONI. "It will not affect diagnosis."

"Someone's feeling defiant today," Gabe remarks. "Oh well, you're right. It won't affect anything."

"Please continue the diagnosis," says RONI. "I will prepare only the highest quality images for you."

However, good quality or bad quality, Gabe finds something wrong in the third picture nevertheless. Any doctor can see that something is wrong at first glance.

"Just as I thought," he whispers. "The left ventricle is enlarged… RONI, you got that? It's even worse than I imagined."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Enlarged Left Ventricle."_

"Let's get back to my office and decide on a diagnosis," says Gabe. _Time to end this session._

Gabe and RONI head back to the office and go straight to Dilated Cardiomyopathy. There, just as expected, is the sentence on an enlarged left ventricle.

"So it is Dilated Cardiomyopathy," Gabe murmurs. "Looks like the worst case scenario's come true."

"Diagnosis complete," says RONI, her voice free from terror, worries, or joy. "Well done, Doctor. Shall we notify the patient?"

"Yeah," Gabe sighs. "I'll tell him myself."

* * *

"So… have you found out what's wrong with me yet?" Tillman asks softly, all traces of anger gone from his voice. Gabe sighs from his desk.

"Mmm… well, yeah."

"So what is it, son?" One would think that Tillman is just eager to get out of the hospital, but it seems that he is mightily interested in his health also. "What's wrong with me?"

"Dilated Cardiomyopathy," says Gabe. Better to break the news fast out to him. "It's a disease where the heart muscle weakens. The myocarditis from two years ago is the likely cause of it."

"Is it… curable?" Tillman whispers. "When can I get back to the office?"

"There's a 50% chance you'll last five years," says Gabe drily. "10 years? Maybe 30%. You need a heart transplant. Stop worrying about work."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Tillman stands up abruptly. "Listen up, son! This country's in a pretty tight spot! It won't last without honest folk at the reigns, guiding it! Please, I love this nation, and I need to help save it!"

"Unfortunately," Gabe says, "Saving your life will have to come first. Take my advice. Move out to the country and wait for a donor."

Gabe exits the examination room, leaving Tillman to collapse back into his wheelchair, defeated.

* * *

"I heard Assistant Secretary Tillman has Cardiomyopathy."

Tomoe Tachibana finds Gabe on the roof.

"Yeah," says Gabe shortly.

"Can't we do anything?" asks Tomoe. "Maybe beta blockers or angiotensin?"

"You want someone who could die any second running the country?" Gabe asks. "He may live, but his political career's over."

"We can't do anything?" Tomoe asks sadly. "He's so passionate about his work…"

"Medicine has its limits, and passion doesn't save lives. If that's all, I'm gonna get going," Gabe sighs.

"Oh, wait!" Tomoe suddenly cries. "I need to talk to you about Joshua…"

Gabe's heart lurches as he thinks of his son, who probably hates him. Joshua Cunningham…

"Shouldn't you be talking to the kid's family?" Gabe asks frostily, icicles dangling off the edge of his voice.

"Isn't Joshua your son, Doctor?" Tomoe asks gently. At her words, Gabe's heart sways even further. _She knows._

"The boy hardly knows my face," Gabe murmurs. "That's not much of a father…"

"But…" Tomoe protests as Gabe makes a move to walk to the roof door. "Dr. Cunningham!"

"It's over," he says harshly, one hand raised in the air in defeat. "Sometimes you need to learn when the give up…"

Gabe withdraws from the roof, leaving behind an empty silence that Tomoe quickly absorbs. _He's lost hope, _she thinks. _He's completely lost in terms of his family… wandering alone in the blazing darkness._

* * *

Well, there you have it. The 5,340 word chapter of Blazing Darkness. *groans* If you thought this was long, then Chapter Four will be longer. Same thing with Proud One in Patient Zero. *groans again* I am NOT looking forwards to Forensics. It's fun and Naomi and Little Guy are awesome, but it's gonna be loooooooooong. And I'll bet that I'll be the one doing at least one episode of it. *glares* MF, HURRY UP!

Next chapter will be coming sometime at the end of this week, if I've got the time. Kay?

~fk


	27. Gabe: III: Moving Heart

**CHAPTER THREE  
**_Moving Heart_

A tall surgeon's burly body towers over the fragile flowers, as though he will crush them with a single step of his foot. But Hank Freebird doesn't make a single move to harm the flowers, simply stares at them through his squinty eyes, until another doctor interrupts.

"Hey, Hank!" Gabriel Cunningham shouts in greeting, coming up to him. "So… you're the one who takes care of the flowers? Well, I'll be…"

"I enjoy flowers," says Hank, defending himself. "You give them love, and they blossom!"

"So different from humans," Gabe sighs, lighting another cigarette. "So, what do you need me for?"

Hank raises a folder and hands it to Gabe across a patch of beautiful Asclepias flowers. "Could you take a look? The condition is a strange one."

Gabe takes the folder and can feel a thick sheaf of papers inside. Far too lazy to read through tiny writing and labels, he decides to go for a casual conversation instead.

"So what's with all the fuss today?" he asks, tucking the folder under his arms.

"You haven't heard?" Hank scoffs, pointing at the thickening crowd gathering at the front of the hospital. "Someone's doing an OLCVR today."

Gabe's mouth drops to the ground in astonishment. "You're kidding, right?" he asks hopefully. "No one does that procedure anymore…"

"I'll be assisting," says Hank grimly. "A specialist's coming in for it. It's one of your patients, you know."

Gabe had been dreading this all along. "Mine? Don't tell me…"

OLCVR… Overlapping Cardiac Volume Reduction… used in cases of Dilated Cardiomyopathy…

"Hey, out of my way!" Gabe shouts, shoving a pathway through the dense crowds. "Let me through!"

Gabe finds his way blocked by two men in suits; bodyguards, no doubt.

"It's all right, men," says a gruff voice from behind the giant build of the two bodyguards. "I thought you'd come."

The two bodyguards obediently part sideways and stand behind the man instead. Jacob Tillman sits in his wheelchair, hands resting on his legs as usual, the same smirk on his face.

"So it is you," Gabe breathes. "An OLCVR? _What are you thinking?"_

"You told me yourself that you're a doctor, right?" Tillman asks evenly.

"Yeah," Gabe admits, yet anger still lingers in his voice. "I may have said something along those lines. _So?"_

"Well, you're the doctor, and I'm the politician," Tillman chuckles. "It's my duty to lead this country, even if my life's at risk."

"But do you have any idea what kind of operation this is?" Gabe blurts out frantically. "It's outdated, and it won't cure you! It's just a stall!"

"Ha!" Tillman barks in laughter. "You afraid? You were so strong before, preaching at me… But, son, you don't get to my age being as timid as you are! One thing I learned over the years… never give up!"

Jacob Tillman wheels away into the orange corridors of Resurgam.

"Damn," Gabe swears. "That's one determined old fool…"

* * *

Gabe turns away indignantly from the disappearing man in the wheelchair and stomps into his office, where he meets his other doom: RONI. Infuriated, Gabe throws himself into his revolving chair, and the computer, heedless of Gabe's anger, begins her briefing as usual.

"Well then, Doctor," says RONI, "Let's begin today's diagnosis. The patient, Shelly Brooks, claims to have a fever."

Gabe sighs, not paying attention to RONI's words nor the patient's charts.

"Dr. Cunningham, are you listening?" RONI questions.

"Hmm?" Gabe looks up into the computer's monitor. "Yeah."

"Your concentration is low," RONI notices. "You may overlook something critical."

"Huh?" Gabe exclaims. "What are you talking about? That's not gonna happen."

"Does Assistant Secretary Tillman's operation weigh heavily on your mind?" RONI asks.

_Damn computer knows everything, _Gabe mutters in his mind.

"Shut up," he scowls. "That's not it."

"I'm sorry, Doctor," says RONI, but the apology doesn't seem genuine. "But… if you are troubled, I am equipped to listen."

Gabe sighs. "They even gave you a consultation function?"

"No," RONI counters, "But I can supply template responses to match your mood."

"That's just pity comfort!" Gabe howls. "Come on, let's just start the diagnosis, okay?"

**+++PHASE ONE+++**

"Hello," says Shelly Brooks, without the nervousness of Nicole Summers nor the stubbornness of Jacob Tillman, but with an aura of authorization in it instead. "I'm glad that someone could see me."

Shelly Brooks, the 28-year-old female, sits cross-legged in the patient's chair. Her dark hair is tied up, and her inky eyes stare blankly. Everything she wears is either grey or black, from the jacket to the socks.

"Not a problem," says Gabe. "Now to begin with…"

"Um…" Brooks interrupts, "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I have to attend an important business deal soon. Is it possible to keep this as quick as you can? Please?"

"Well, I wasn't planning on wasting time," Gabe protests. To prove this, he turns sharply to RONI. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"All right. Let's start the diagnosis." Gabe turns to the patient again. "Why don't you start by talking a bit?"

"I think it's just a cold," Brooks starts. "Can you prescribe me something so I can get back to work?"

Gabe sighs and shakes his head.

"You can't? Oh dear… this isn't good. I've got a meeting soon. Um… I've had a fever for a while and it won't go away."

_A continuous fever, huh? _Gabe thinks. _Perhaps…_

"Excuse me," Gabe asks, completely wary of RONI's admonishings to take great care diagnosing patients of the opposite gender. "But are you married?"

Flabbergasted, Brooks squeaks out an answer. "Um, Doctor? Is that relevant to my illness?"

"Well, there's no direct relevance," says Gabe, and only years of working with women keeps his face from burning up. "But a woman's body temperature increases during pregnancy. We see a lot of women who think it's a fever."

"Oh!" Brook understands, and there's a clear sign of relief in her voice. "Well, thank you for thinking about that. No, you don't have to worry about that. I'm totally concentrating on my job now."

"I see," says Gabe. "Then let's make a note of this, RONI."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, who thankfully didn't interrupt earlier about _dealing with women. _"New symptom observed: _Fever."_

"I've also lost some weight, but I think it's just because of the fever," Brooks supplies.

"Weight loss," Gabe murmurs. "Whether this is a symptom or not depends on how much you lost… So, what was your original weight, and what is it now?"

Brooks's face turns slightly pink. "Um… I don't really want to mention how much…"

"Okay, you don't have to be specific," says Gabe. "Ballpark it?"

She thinks for a few seconds. "Well, it seems like a lot… like, it's more than should be natural."

"I see," says Gabe, determined not to push her too far, but maybe that's mostly because he wants to avoid RONI's rants. "I appreciate your cooperation. RONI, jot that down."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Weight Loss."_

"Besides that," says Brooks, desperate to move the subject off weight loss, "I've been having night sweats, but that might be the fever, too."

_Night sweats? Dysautonomia is the first thing to come to mind, but… _

"You've been busy with work, right?" Gabe prods. "Does it stress you out?"

"Stress? That's a good one, Doctor. I _love _my job!"

"You're a strange one," Gabe chuckles. "If I had my pick, I'd be sitting on my couch all day."

"That is not relevant, Doctor," RONI interrupts, and Gabe's beady eyes glare at RONI's blue screen irkly. "New symptom observed: _Night Sweats."_

"I can't think of anything other than those," Brooks mutters, completely mortified. Then, she remembers another thing, and hopefully, it will speed up the diagnosis. "Oh! I wasn't trying to hide this or anything… but I had an operation two months ago. It wasn't at this hospital. I had some kidney trouble, and received a transplant. There are some odd bruises around the scar from the operation…"

_Bruises… around the operation scar? That worries me a little._

"Could you tell me in detail where they are and what they look like?" Gabe asks.

"Oh, yes," says Brooks, "Of course. The scar from the transplant healed cleanly, so there isn't much of it left… but there are these black bruise-like things around where it was."

"I'll need to look at it in detail," Gabe sighs. "Would you mind showing me later?"

"Yes," says Brooks. "If you need to see it for the examination, I understand. Anyways, it's strange… I made sure to take the medication they gave me, too. But that's it, really. It's just a cold… right?" she finishes hopefully.

"Abnormalities and the operation scar, huh?" Gabe murmurs. "Well, let's see them. Could you lift up your shirt for me?"

Shelly Brooks does so, and Gabe immediately notices the bruises. "It's true there are dark red pigment spots around the operation scar…"

"Did these exist before the kidney transplant?" Gabe asks.

"No, I'm sure of it," says Brooks. "I'd have noticed if those were there before."

"Did you show these to your doctor? What did he say about them?"

"This is the first time I've seen a doctor since the operation," says Brooks, almost indignantly. "I've been so busy at work that I couldn't keep any appointment."

"I see…" says Gabe. "Then this needs to be examined. RONI, I'll need a scintigraphy and a biopsy done."

"Understood, Doctor. Since biopsies are done in the pathology department, it will take some time. Is this all right?"

Gabe gives a huge sigh. "If it's not in our department, I can't tell them to do it right away… just let me know when the results come back, RONI."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Pigment Spots. _Also, the scintigraphy is ready."

Gabe nods, and leaves to see the images.

"So… the uptake of thallium matches the pigment spots on the skin," he murmurs, picking up the picture. "There's a good chance the pigment spots are tumors. We should review our diagnosis candidates."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Abnormal Uptake Into Pigment Spots."_

Gabe nods, and suddenly, a thought strikes through him.

Immediately, Gabe bolts for the office, desperately trying to find RONI's list of candidates. Finally, he finds the file, and runs it through.

"Kaposi's sarcoma," Gabe whispers in both fear and joy. "All our symptoms apply to it, but…"

"Doctor, are you concerned about something?" RONI asks.

"There's no way Kaposi's sarcoma can occur unless there was an extreme decrease in the immune system," says Gabe, who can actually know useful things for once. "If we don't solve that portion, it's impossible to make a diagnosis… I feel like it's right there in front of me. RONI, do you remember anything that might help?"

"Negative, Doctor. I record only pertinent facts in my memory. Would you like to change these settings so that I record every detail of the diagnosis?"

"No, let's not," says Gabe worriedly, holding his hands in front of him to show his rejection. "I feel like I'd be cutting off all my escape routes if I did that. Oh well, I think it's time to listen to what the patient has to say again…"

Gabe steps back into the examination room, and finds Shelly Brooks sitting impatiently, squirming under the pressure of the clock that ticks behind her.

"Uh, sorry to keep you waiting when you're so busy," says Gabe awkwardly, nudging the door closed with his toe. "How are you feeling?"

"Nothing much as changed in particular," says Brooks crisply. "Is this going to take long?"

"Don't get so hasty," Gabe warns. "It's going to take a little more time until you're diagnosed."

"I see," says Brooks carefully, "I've got a meeting soon, though."

"There's something that bothers me_," _Gabe muses.

"Doctor, a severely inhibited immune system is the prerequisite for Kaposi's sarcoma," RONI lectures. "Its primary causes are AIDS and some specific medication with immunity–"

"Yeah, that's true," Gabe interrupts crossly. "You can shut up now."

Gabe stares into Shelly Brooks's shadowy eyes, trying to find out what is going on. He racks his brains, trying to conjure up what Brooks had said earlier… and all of a sudden, the thread of memories dangles in front of Gabe, emerging out of a cloak of fog like a lighthouse's gleam shining out of the blanket of darkness.

_The medication prescribed after the kidney transplant!_

"Hey, I'm sorry, but can I confirm something?" Gabe asks. "You were given immunosuppressive drugs, right?"

Brooks looks puzzled and clueless, a blank shock appearing on her face, and then it distorts into a face of understanding. "Yes, isn't that something normal to take after an organ transplant?"

"Yeah, that's right," says Gabe hurriedly. "But that's something we need to know in making a diagnosis. Now, everything depends on the results of your biopsy…"

And so they wait, and the trio make an odd pair. A young woman sitting in a chair, her finger tapping impatiently against her leg; an older man with even longer hair than the woman, the corners of his mouth turning down in a grimace; and finally, the computer, standing on the dirt-colored floor, her blue screen flickering ominously.

Finally, RONI speaks up. "Dr. Cunningham, the biopsy results have come back from the pathology department."

"_Finally!" _Gabe cries, relieved. "How are they?"

"The antibody reaction was positive," says RONI. "But they failed to specify the virus causing the disease."

"Failed to specify the virus?" Gabe asks, incredulous". "What in the world are they doing?"

"The reason is unknown, Doctor. Shall I explain the 1874 patterns of conjectures in regards to it?"

"N-No, that's alright," says Gabe innocently, eager to avoid as much of RONI's stare as possible. "It shouldn't be a problem to make a diagnosis. RONI, let's go back to the office. Time to narrow down our possible candidates."

"Understood, Doctor," RONI says. "New symptom observed: _Positive Antibody Reaction."_

Gabe knows what the disease is before he even reaches the files, but naturally, he's right. "So it is Kaposi's sarcoma. But… why? The period of time until the onset is too short… it's _similar _to Kaposi's sarcoma, but this is something else."

"Doctor, we have an urgent contact," RONI commands. "Please head immediately to the examination room. The patient is complaining of abdominal pains."

Gabe jumps, startled. What has caused this sudden change of status? "Abrupt stomach pain? What on earth is going on?"

"Doctor, these may be related to the tumors discovered before."

"Great," Gabe mutters, his voice filled to the brim with sarcasm. "RONI, you ready?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "Commence diagnosis when you are ready."

"Reserve an OR just in case," Gabe orders. "Let's begin."

**+++PHASE TWO+++**

"Hey, are you all right? What's wrong?"

Gabe storms into the examination room, looks of worry crossing his face. Obviously, Shelly Brooks isn't all right, but that's just the kind of useless things doctors say.

"My stomach started to hurt all of a sudden," Brooks groans, clutching her stomach.

"There's a chance your condition took a turn for the worse," Gabe says. "RONI, get ready for examination."

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI.

"Please start talking," Gabe instructs. Shelly Brooks nods, and begins.

"Um… my stomach suddenly started hurting," she says.

"So these are the sudden abdominal pains you mentioned earlier," Gabe murmurs. "RONI, make a note of it."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI obediently. "New symptom observed: _Stomachache."_

"I feel a little nauseous, too," Brooks supports.

_She's experiencing nausea as well… _"This is far from being good."

"New symptom observed: _Nausea," _says RONI automatically.

"I can't concentrate on my work with this going on," Brooks sighs. "Please, Doctor. See if there's anything wrong with me. I've told you everything I've been feeling… Let's see, if there's anything else worth mentioning, I guess I have been feeling a little bloated."

"I see," Gabe mutters. "Her abdomen is bloated, then. RONI, add that to her record."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Bloated Abdomen."_

Shelly Brooks suddenly turns a bright cherry tomato red, her face a strong shade of scarlet. She squirms uncomfortably in her seat, trying to word what she's going to say next.

"Lately, um…" she trails off, "Well, um… ooh… uh… I-I'm having trouble… um… using the toilet fully. You understand?"

"Trouble using the toilet?" Gabe asks. "In other words… well, let's just be frank about it. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, right? We're animals. We excrete waste."

Brooks doesn't say anything.

"Right, well, I won't force you to say it, then," Gabe mutters in shame. _Why do all the sane ones have to be female? _"But you're unable to produce those things on the toilet, yes?"

"Y-Yes," Brooks stammers, head bowed, eyes glaring at the tiny chips in the floor.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Gabe mumbles. "RONI, make a note of this."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, with no discomfort in her voice at all. "New symptom observed: _Constipation."_

Gabe figures that he has pushed enough out of Shelly Brooks for today, and proceeds to arm himself with the stethoscope. Reflecting back on the patient's complaints about stomachaches, Gabe checks there first.

The noise sounds like crackling thunder, dancing on wild lightning as it strikes Brooks's intestines. Gabe wrenches the stethoscope from his ears, wincing from the loud burst of noise that has emitted from it.

"Your intestines' bowel sounds are a bit violent," he flinches, though _a bit _is an understatement. "RONI, write this down too."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Aggravated Bowel Sounds."_

"You know," says Gabe casually, "Given these symptoms, it appears to be a problem with the intestines. RONI, get approval for an X-ray and a CT exam."

"I've already sent in the requests, Doctor," says RONI.

"Good call," Gabe sighs, refusing to let RONI's general wits get to him. "Maybe you should become a diagnostician."

"With all due respect, Dr. Cunningham," says RONI, who seems to take things literally. Gabe hasn't forgotten about when he asked RONI to be a rock.

"Yeah, yeah, I was joking," Gabe mutters, eager to steer clear of another rock episode. "Let's hurry up and get going."

"Doctor, the results of the X-ray and CT examinations are ready for you to look over," says RONI, back to a professional state.

"Well, then I guess I should look them over," says Gabe.

His playful mood turns into a downcast swing as he frowns at the pictures. "Atrophying can be seen in the left and right kidneys," he notes. "Hey, RONI, wold you call this a symptom?"

"Negative, Doctor," says RONI. "The patient has received a kidney transplant."

"Ah, that's right," says Gabe, just remembering. "I forgot the new kidneys were transplanted without extracting the diseased ones…"

"Correct, Doctor," says RONI. "It does not need to be recorded as a symptom."

"I guess you're right," says Gabe, and then he remembers that he's not supposed to give RONI any satisfaction. "I mean, uh, I was just testing you. Keep up the good work…!" he adds hastily.

"I am sorry, but I do not fully believe in you, Doctor," says RONI, who has to pick now out of every time to not be literal.

"hey, you could at least play along!" Gabe protests, and goes back to the pictures.

"The fluid and gas in her intestine have completely separated," he spots. "It's a niveau, RONI. An air-fluid level."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Formation of Air-Fluid Level Formation."_

"Are these shadows in the small intestine tumors?" Gabe asks, without stopping to give RONI a rest from the last symptom. "It's hard to make a call. RONI, gimme your opinion on this."

"Doctor, I do not have any opinions. My answers are based on statistics."

"Whatever," Gabe snaps. "Just spill it."

"I am currently collating this data with tumor examples in my archive."

"Last time I ask a machine for a quick answer," Gabe moans.

"My calculations show there is an approximately 92% chance that these are tumors," RONI finally says.

"Woah!" Gabe cries. "A-Anyways, yeah, so let's just call them tumors for now then."

"We must not do that, Doctor," says RONI sharply. "There remains an 8% probability that they are not tumors."

"Yeah, and that pretty much means they're tumors," Gabe argues. "Well, just record the symptom for now."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Tumor Shadows on Small Intestine."_

"We've gone through the X-ray and the CT scan," says Gabe, closing the image files. "Let's head back to my office and sort it all out. I think we have everything we need to make a diagnosis, RONI."

"I agree, Doctor. Please narrow down the potential candidates."

Gabe does so, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out the only disease that matches all the symptoms: intestinal ileus.

"An intestinal ileus originating from tumors in the small intestine," Gabe murmurs.

"Due to the location," RONI chimes in gently, "There is a high probability that the primary focus will be the ones on skin."

"Dammit," Gabe curses. "I know. But…"

"Doctor, I would recommend that you examine the other organs."

_I thought you had no opinions, _Gabe snarls in his mind, but doesn't say anything, because it's for sure that RONI will blurt out something equally witty, like _recommendation isn't an opinion. _So instead, he says, "Yeah, I agree. Let's go back to the exam room."

"Understood. I'll make preparations."

"Metastasis spreading from skin tumors to the small intestine?" Gabe mutters, striding back to the exam room.

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "At this rate, other organs are also in danger."

"Damn… something isn't right, RONI. Let's hurry."

**+++PHASE THREE+++**

"Doctor, how is it?" Shelly Brooks asks. "What am I ill with?"

"I can't say for certain yet," says Gabe nervously. _Stop lacking professionalism! _"Sorry, but I need to run more tests."

"I understand," says Brooks. "I have faith in you, Doctor. There's something I need to tell you, though…"

"Is it a new symptom?" Gabe asks, an eyebrow raised in curiousity.

"Well, yes," she says abruptly, and gives a nasty cough. "I don't know why, but my chest's been hurting for a while."

"Chest pains, huh? RONI, could you make a note of this?"

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Chest pains."_

"If this keeps up," Brooks wheezes, and then coughs nastily, her hands automatically going to her mouth in an useless attempt to stop the coughs. "I'm sorry. Anyway, I won't be able to work if this continues."

_She seems to be coughing a lot… _Gabe murmurs. _Could it be her lungs or bronchi? _"RONI, let's record this too."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Coughing."_

"I won't have to be hospitalized, will I, Doctor?" Brooks asks worriedly, fetching a tissue from her pocket. "I'd have to rearrange my schedule…"

Gabe sighs, and takes the stethoscope. Nothing unusual comes up. He repeats with the EKG, but nothing comes up out of the ordinary, either. However, when Shelly Brooks coughs again, it is.

"Oh, Doctor," she coughs, "It seems like the chest pains are getting worse…

"Her symptoms are getting worse," Gabe echoes. "We need to redo all the exams!"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "I'll make the preparations."

Gabe, in the meanwhile, does his own preparations, and checks the auscultation again. No sooner has he pressed his stethoscope against the patient's left lung does he know that something is very wrong indeed.

"These respiratory sounds are weak," he mutters. "What about in other areas?"

He tries the right lung, but that one is perfectly normal.

"As I thought. The other areas are normal; they're only weak in the lower-left lung. It's some form of lung abnormality, for sure. RONI, get us an X-ray, pronto."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "The X-ray exam is now available. New symptom observed: _Attenuation of Respiratory Sounds."_

Gabe doesn't wait for RONI's voice to stop bouncing off the walls. Instead, he jumps from his chair and goes to check out the X-rays.

What he finds is something equally chaotic to the weak lung sounds.

"A white shadow in the lower part of the left lung," he murmurs. "It's definitely a sign of fluid accumulating in the thorax. So we know she has a lung abnormality, RONI… let's narrow down the candidates."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Pleural Effusion."_

Gabe stores that away, and goes back to the office. Again, it doesn't take much of an expert to find out that Shelly Brooks has Carcinomatous Pleuritis.

"Carcinomatous Pleuritis," Gabe sighs. "All her symptoms apply to it. "We'll need a CT scan to confirm the diagnosis though. RONI, how'd our patient doing?"

"She is not doing well, Doctor," says RONI bleakly. "Please return to the examination room immediately."

"Ngh… that's what I thought. All right, let's go check on her."

Gabe and RONI rush back to the examination office, where they find Shelly Brooks in a fit of coughs, leaning over her chair, resting on her knees, both hands covering her mouth. "M-My chest," she wheezes in pain. "It really hurts badly now, Doctor…"

"Her condition's worsened even further," says Gabe sharply. "We can't continue on with the diagnosis. RONI, request a room immediately. She needs to be hospitalized and her symptoms need to be treated."

"D-Doctor?" Brooks's voice comes out of the hazy fog, the same way Claire's dying voice had sounded to Hank. "No… I can't just let the symptoms be treated… can you please continue examining?"

"Huh?" Gabe asks in astonishment. "Do you know how much of a risk you're in right now?"

"I… I finally thought that I could live…" she whispers, lost in hopeless and despair, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I had a new kidney, I recovered from the operation… I could finally live a life on my own… So please… Doctor… Please, find out what's wrong with me. Please, cure me!"

Gabe sighs, but his eyes are also full of sorrow. "RONI, cancel that hospitalization order. Let's finish the diagnosis."

"With all due respect, Dr. Cunningham," says RONI. Gabe remembers this phrase, from when RONI had stopped him from examining Jacob Tillman, and a various of other things.

It's time to change that.

"What?" he snarls. "You always rant about how I need approval from the patient when it comes to performing exams, but you won't listen to the patient when it comes to hospitalization and diagnosis? When things are inconvenient, we should push all the responsibility onto the patient? Spend all day worrying about how to avoid a lawsuit? _To hell with that!"_

"Understood," says RONI, much to Gabe's shock, as he stands there, mouth agape. "I admit, even I find incongruities with the protocol that I have been designed to conform to. I think that I shall add _to hell with that _into my computer registry.

Relieved, Gabe mutters, "My thoughts exactly. So it's X-ray time again, and order a CT scan as well."

"The X-ray and CT examinations are now available," says RONI.

Gabe begins searching the CT pictures first, and after looking at four images with no avail, he finally finds something on the fifth image.

"Found something," he says grimly. "Tumor shadows. RONI, make a note."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Tumor Shadows on Lung."_

"Huh?" Gabe suddenly cries, glaring at the X-ray image. "What the hell is this? Hey, RONI… this shadowing!"

"I anticipate this is a new symptom, as it was not confirmed by the previous X-ray," says RONI.

"New symptom?" Gabe exclaims. "Don't be ridiculous. I've never heard of anything like this suddenly popping up inside someone. RONI, collate the data and check what it is!"

"Yes, Doctor," RONI obeys. "One moment, please."

After a few seconds and a short _beep_, RONI says, "There is no matching data. It's an unconfirmed symptom."

"Dammit!" Gabe curses. "What's going on?"

"There is a less than 1% probability of ascertaining what it is from the data at hand," says RONI. "I recommend that you remember the shadowing for later and continue with the diagnosis."

"Yeah, you're right," Gabe sighs, though his heart still pounds loudly inside his ribcage. "We can't spend any more time on this. RONI, let's continue with the diagnosis."

Gabe heads back to the office, ready to confront this mysterious ailment at last.

"There's no mistake that it's carcinomatous pleuritis," Gabe sighs. "But… I'm not convinced. Skin to the small intestine… small intestine to the lungs? How can a focus that devours the human body at such a rate exist?"

"Doctor." RONI's calm voice interrupts Gabe's rant.

"Oh sorry, what is it?" Gabe asks.

"No further progress can be expected at this point. The diagnosis will be completed temporarily. I will leave the cause of the disease as unknown and call attention to this case."

"Yeah," Gabe agrees. "We've got no other choice. I'm stumped… what am I supposed to tell her?"

"Ending the diagnosis," is all RONI says.

* * *

"Doctor, are you all right?" Shelly Brooks asks from her spot on the patient's chair. "Is something wrong?"

"Uh…"

"Please, you can say it. What's wrong with me?" Brooks begs.

"I'm sorry," Gabe sighs. "But I can't say anything for sure yet. Please be patient. I want to keep your hospitalized a bit…"

"That's fine, Doctor," says Brooks, sorrow and worry in her voice. "I'll put myself in your hands."

"I'm sorry," Gabe apologizes once more. "I promise I'll do everything in my power…"

* * *

In his office, Gabriel Cunningham slumps on the couch, completely stumped by this appearance of the so-called Kaposi's sarcoma.

"Do you need my assistance, Dr. Cunningham?" RONI asks, and Gabe frantically whirls around, trying to find the source of the voice. The computer definitely isn't in the room… and suddenly, with a very Holden-like moment, he finds a camera on the ceiling beeping with RONI's voice.

"Another little trick of yours, huh?" Gabe snaps. "Sounds useful."

"I can utilize this facility's entire installation network," says RONI proudly.

"All right, so what do you think about that patient?"

"I found no reasonable matches within the current literature," says RONI. "I suspect it is an unidentified condition."

Gabe gives a small _hmph. _"Well, for once, I agree with you. It mirrors Kaposi's sarcoma, but it spreads much faster."

"I estimate the entire lung will be affected within twenty days," says RONI drearily.

"We don't have time to sit and think!" Gabe snarls in frustration. "We need to treat the skin, lungs, and small intestine all at once."

"An operation like this would yield a 10% success rate," RONI offers.

"There's no other options, though," Gabe counters. "I'm stumped."

"Should I request a hospice transfer and notify her family?" RONI asks, helpful for once.

"_The earth was blue, but there was no god," _Gabe recites. "We did all we could. Now, we just have to hope for the best."

Gabe thinks back to Jacob Tillman's words as he wheeled himself away. _One thing I learned over the years… never give up!_

Then, earlier that day, Hank Freebird's shadow looming over the Asclepias flowers as he talks about the OLCVR operation. _I'll be assisting. A specialist's coming in for it._

"That's it!" Like someone had just threatened Gabe with no more cigarettes, the diagnostician sits up sharply. "RONI, you said you have access to the full facility, right?"

"I did, Doctor," says RONI cautiously, wary of Gabe's request.

"All right! I want you to look up OLCVR data," Gabe demands. "Records, footage, surgeon name, contact info, everything! I promised I'd do everything in my power…"

* * *

The monitors in the command room shows Shelly Brooks's unconscious figure as oxygen is fed to her through a mask. The calm, reassuring sound of the specialist doctor's voice echoes through the speakers as his brisk orders make his assistants scramble around to satisfy them.

"Scalpel," he orders. "And the Kocher forceps too. Hurry."

"Isn't the boy just superb?" Jacob Tillman grins. "Now, are you glad he's here?"

"Yeah, thanks to you," Gabe admits. "I'm in your debt, I guess."

"You threaten me so you can use him, and then you thank me?" Tillman grunts with an air of annoyance in him.

"Hey, no threats," Gabe shrugs. "I just asked you to lend him to me…"

"Of course not!" Tillman exclaims, and then sighs. "Still, I have to say… it takes guts asking for such a big favor to save your patient. Well, son, I guess you and I are square now."

Tillman wheels himself out the door, which shuts tightly behind him. Gabe is alone in the room.

"To save a patient, huh?" he murmurs, playing with the form of the word in his mouth, even with the cigarette dangling off it. "It's nothing noble like that…"

If only Gabe had glanced at his patient list, if only he had taken notice of the name that is his next patient. If he had, perhaps he would've had some hindsight of what will happen in the near future, but he didn't, far too concerned in the newest spread of Kaposi's sarcoma. This is why things are different, because Gabe never glanced at the name that read out, in big letters, _Joshua Cunningham.

* * *

_

fk will do the word count for you: It's 5,914. The next chapter, The Simplest Truth, has three phases in it also and believe me, a ten-year-old boy is even more stubborn than fifty-five-year-old politician. So I'll try to get it up in a week.

~fk1998, who has been seriously lacking in Blizzard. *sigh*


	28. Gabe: IV: The Simplest Truth

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**_The Simplest Truth_

"Yeah, the patient made it," says Gabe. "I called in a special surgeon."

His hand is on the phone, pressed to his ear as he listens to the person speaking on the other end.

"I see," says Naomi Kimishima. "And the cause of it all? Could it be an epidemic?"

Naomi has gone already gone through a GUILT – that is, Gangliated Utrophin Immuno Latency Toxin – epidemic, and the last thing she needs is another one. GUILT had nearly claimed the life of her good friend, Derek Stiles, and she doesn't want Gabe going the same way too.

"Can't say," says Gabe. "Like you, I'm getting a bad feeling here."

"We need to look into this as soon as possible, then," says Naomi briskly. _You have no idea, Gabe, _she thinks. _If only you knew about my past…_

"Yeah, you're right," Gabe sighs.

Although Naomi isn't a diagnostician, she still is an expert forensics researcher. "Gabe? You sound tired. Did something else happen?"

"Nah, it's nothing," Gabe laughs, lying. "I've just been fed up with myself lately."

"What's wrong?" Naomi asks. "You don't seem like your usual self."

Gabe's usual self isn't a solemn, bleak shell. Gabe would normally joke on random things and make sarcastic comments. This isn't the Gabe Naomi knew.

Gabe only laughs at Naomi's comment. "Don't worry about it. Anyways, try to get here as soon as possible."

"Well, all right." It's Naomi's turn to sigh.

Gabe hangs up, but no sooner had he placed the phone back in its cradle does Maria come hammering into his office.

"Gabe, you there?" she asks.

"Of course I am," says Gabe, eyes scrunched. "Some of us can't loaf around on the job."

Maria snarls and lets the door click shut behind her. "How sweet," she says. "I'm gonna let that one slide. Your patient's being discharged today, but she wants to see you."

"The lady with Kaposi's?" Gabe asks. "I wasn't the one who saved her. If she wants to talk to someone, call her surgeon."

"Oh, hell no!" Maria scowls. "That guy is a serious asshole!"

"Uh, whatever," Gabe stammers, who thinks that the kid, CR-S01, is actually all right. "I don't plan on going down there either. Anything else?"

"Yeah, there's one more thing," says Maria, her voice dropping an octave to a gentler sound. "We're understaffed, and the Chief wants you to take this one."

Maria holds out a clipboard with a patient's name scrawled on top, and all the information on it.

"Is that all?" Gabe asks lazily, settling back onto his couch. "Well, give it here."

Maria gives it to him, preparing for Gabe's reaction.

Gabe stares at the name on the clipboard for a full solid minute, unable to register the tiny black print. No, he knows the name. He knows what it is; in fact he knows the most about that name out of everyone in the entire hospital.

"But the patient's… Joshua?" he asks incredulously. _My son?_

"Well, if you don't want to, I can ask another doctor," says Maria.

"What kind of a doctor would I be if I chose my patients?" Gabe snarls. "RONI, let's start the diagnosis. Bring up the charts."

Maria leaves the room as RONI wheels in.

"Yes, Doctor. The patient's name is Joshua Cunningham. He is related to you by blood, Doctor."

Gabe's heart nervously sways as he anticipates the appearance of his own son. He begins to regret accepting Joshua as a patient, now.

"Is there a problem?" Gabe growls, sucking up his guts.

"Negative," says RONI, not used to Gabe's scoldings. "But I can request a new doctor if you prefer."

Gabe takes a deep breath and thinks it over. _This is your last chance. Do you really want to diagnose your son?_

Then, _would I really be a doctor… a father… if I refuse to even make sure that my own son is in good health?_

"I'll be fine," he declares. "Man, they really programmed you well."

"I must take into account the feelings of those around me," says RONI. "Observing colleagues allows me to gather their emotional data."

"Yeah, you're perfect," says Gabe wearily. "Now you just need to learn how to talk."

**+++PHASE ONE+++**

Gabe walks into the examination room, and freezes at the sight of his son. RONI waits, her screen pulsing, waiting to observe Gabe's reaction.

"Hello!" says Joshua Cunningham cheerily. "You're a new doctor."

"Yeah," says Gabe, waiting for recognition to sink in. "Hello, Joshua."

_My own son doesn't even recognize me…_

"Um, Doctor? I don't hurt at all."

_Great. Another Jacob Tillman, but younger, and he has to be my son._

"That can't be," says Gabe. "I received a report from your nurse."

"That's weird," Joshua lies. "I'm all right, really."

Joshua Cunningham did indeed look all right. His green hair sticks up, just like Gabe's do, and his face is a healthy color. His eyes are normal, their color standing out to Gabe sharply.

"Well, let's check you out," says Gabe, eager to get this done as soon as possible. "If I can't find anything, I'll let you go back to your room."

"Okay," Joshua agrees reluctantly.

"Why don't you start talking?" Gabe suggests, prodding Joshua into the right direction.

"Huh? I feel fine," he repeats himself. "I clean my plate, and I don't hurt at all. I'm just here because the nurse said I had to be examined… but I feel just fine! You think maybe she mistook me for some other kid? Oh, but don't blame her! She's really nice! She's always worried about me and does a lot! I wonder… maybe I did something bad… she really worried about me…"

Joshua finishes his rant.

"That's odd," Gabe murmurs under his breath. "He really _does _seem to be fine… but just to be safe, let's finish the examination."

Gabe checks the stethoscope, listening to the sounds from the heart, abdomen, and both lungs. Nothing is out of the ordinary there. The EKG is perfectly normal, also.

"What the heck?" he ponders. "He doesn't have a single symptom I can find…"

As if on cue, Joshua explodes into a series of coughs. "I'm sorry," he hacks. "It's just a cough!"

"That looked rather strenuous, but it's just a cough?" Gabe muses. "RONI, the patient's hiding something. I'm continuing the exam."

"Understood, please proceed."

"Huh?" Joshua asks in astonishment. "Did I look like it hurt? Oh, c'mon, not you, too. I'm fine, see? I'm totally fine. Can't I go back to my room?"

"Let's get an earful," Gabe sighs, and proceeds to use the stethoscope one more time. "His heart rate is increased… is this… a symptom? Regardless, RONI, record this. I think this is a definite sign."

_Here we go again, _Gabe thinks, frustration building up inside him. _Another Jacob Tillman._

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, her thoughts mirroring Gabe's. "New symptom observed: _Tachycardia."_

"Boy's breathing pretty rapidly, too," Gabe adds. "RONI, jot that down too."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed:_ Tachypnea."_

"Seems like that earlier attack is causing symptoms to appear," says Gabe. When Joshua coughs again, Gabe, adds, "There's no mistake about it."

Then, he sees something.

"Hey, show me the hand you covered your mouth with, right now," he orders.

"Huh?" Joshua asks in disbelief. "It's nothing! C'mon!"

"Jeez, this kid's gonna try and hide as much as he can from me, huh?" Gabe scowls. "I need to see what's on his hand. I need to get him to use his hands… what can I do?"

Gabe grins behind his clipboard.

"Joshua, I need you to life up your shirt for me," he says.

Joshua squints suspiciously at Gabe, but figures that the doctor wouldn't be able to see his hands if he lifted his shirt.

The kid follows Gabe's command.

Gabe looks at the skin of his stomach and chest, but nothing is out of the ordinary. "You can lower your shirt now, Joshua."

Relieved, the kid lets go of his shirt, and resumes to clutching his knees. Then, Gabe sees it. A stain on his shirt where Joshua had grabbed with his hands.

"Yep, there's blood on his clothes," Gabe mumbles darkly. "He still had blood on his hand when he lifted his clothes up… the boy coughed up blood a moment ago, and he tried to hide it. RONI, make a note that J- I mean, the patient, has hematemesis."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Hematemesis."_

"Hey, kid," says Gabe. "Why're you trying to hide your symptoms from me?"

"What?" Joshua asks, shocked. _Did he find out? _"Wh-Why would you say that?"

"I know you coughed up blood earlier," says Gabe. "It's on your clothing."

"Oh…" Joshua tries to think of words to shoot back at the doctor, unknowingly, his own father. "It's just some blood! I'm full of the stuff! I'm fine!"

"Seriously, who'd he inherit this attitude from?" Gabe exhales. Then he realizes his answer, himself, and quickly adds so RONI wouldn't butt in, "Well, we're done talking, so I need you to undergo a few tests for me. RONI, get approval for an X-ray."

"Yes, Doctor. The X-ray examination is now available."

Gabe leaves the room, and Joshua wipes the remaining blood off his hands, and tries not to let his worry show…

Gabe walks across the hall to the Image Analysis Room, and finds the X-rays RONI was talking about earlier.

"This X-ray shows the stomach," RONI babbles.

"I know what a stomach looks like, RONI, thank you. Just shut it and let me see." Gabe frowns at the second X-ray. "There's a cave-in in the gastric wall. The contrast medium has settled in it. Well, this is definitely proof. He can't make excuses anymore."

"I agree, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Caved-in Gastric Wall."_

Gabe nods in approval, and heads to the exam room. _Time to confront Joshua._

"I have proof that there's something wrong with your stomach," says Gabe, before Joshua can blurt out something dumb, like _I'm fine! _"You ready to talk now?"

Joshua sighs and looks at the ground, unable to meet Gabe's eyes. "My tummy hurts once in a while," he admits softly. "But that's it!"

_So he _does _have stomachaches… what an idiot, I bet they hurt a whole lot too… _"Well, RONI, he's finally coming clean with us. You writing all this down?"

"Yes, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Stomachache."_

"Yeah, I don't feel like eating when it hurts," Joshua continues. "What's wrong with that?"

"You don't feel like eating, huh? Well, given your stomach's condition, I'm not surprised. RONI, make a note."

"Understood, Doctor," RONI echoes. "New symptom observed: _Lack of Appetite."_

"Everyone keeps making a fuss about it," Joshua complains, "But it's nothing! Really! Doctor, I'm okay. Seriously!"

"Alright," says Gabe. "Now is there anything else you're hiding? This is your chance…"

"I'm not hiding anything!" Joshua cries indignantly. "I really am oaky!"

"Man, that little _runt," _Gabe scowls. "Time to go back to the office and continue with the diagnosis."

Gabe goes back to the office, as said, and fiddles with the symptoms. A few minutes laters, he breathes out, unbelievingly, "Is it a gastric ulcer? That's odd. Joshua already had endoscopic surgery recently. There's gotta be a reason for the relapse. RONI, let's continue with the diagnosis."

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "Sending the request to continue."

"Something's wrong," Gabe scowls. "The ulcers have returned!"

"I anticipate there is an underlying disease, Doctor," says RONI.

"Yeah, I just hope there's no other complications."

"That would be very beneficial, Doctor," RONI agrees. "Should we begin?"

"Let's do it."

**+++PHASE TWO+++**

"You're having a relapse of gastric ulcers," says Gabe grimly. "I'm guessing it hurts. A lot. Why did you try to hide your symptoms from me?"

"Th-There's nothing wrong me me," Joshua stammers. "I really didn't notice it."

"Just stop it!" Gabe orders fiercely. "There's no way you're all right! Now listen to me, I don't know why you're pretending to be fine, and I don't care why! But the more you keep this up, the more you make everyone around you worry about you!"

"But…"

"Woah, there's no need to explain," Gabe continues his scolding. "If you don't want to talk about it, then that's fine. I've gotten permission from Lisa – I mean, your mother – already."

Gabe forces himself to calm down. _Don't spill it. Don't tell him the truth. Hide the truth from him. Be a hypocrite._

"RONI," Gabe says quickly, trying to cover up his mistake, "Get the examinations ready. If he's not going to talk, then I'll find out myself!"

"Understood," says RONI. "Doctor, please calm down."

"Oh… sorry…" Gabe stammers.

"The X-ray, CT, and analysis exams are now available," RONI says, heedless of Gabe's embarrassment.

The diagnostician sighs and retreats to his desk, where he opens up Joshua's analysis exams. Immediately, he knows that something is wrong.

_Serum Amylase_

_Normal: 60.0 – 200.0_

_Measured: 370.0_

"His serum amylase seems unusually high," Gabe murmurs. "RONI, add that to our list."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High Serum Amylase Level."_

_Serum Lipase_

_Normal: 11.0 – 53.0_

_Measured: 124.0_

"His serum lipase level is a bit higher than I'd like it to be," Gabe adds, glaring at the words right underneath serum amylase. "RONI, record that."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High Serum Lipase Level."_

_Elastase_

_Normla: 70.0 – 430.0_

_Measured: 735.0_

"His elastase level is also elevated," Gabe notes. "RONI, mark that down."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High Elastase Level."_

Gabe sets down the chart and proceeds to see the X-ray and CT images from the lab. He goes with the X-rays first, and is greatly in joy (not) to find that his own son has a big hole in his side.

"There's an abnormal break in the bowel gas," says Gabe, struggling to keep his voice calm. "RONI, record that."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Abnormal Bowel Gas in Intestine."_

"Well, this isn't normal," Gabe sighs, looking at the CT exam. "His pancreas is swollen. RONI, make a note of it."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Swollen Pancreas. _Also, Doctor, further examinations will require the patient's cooperation."

Gabe sighs. "I knew this would happen. All right, I'll try talking to him."

When Gabe enters the exam room again, Joshua is in silence, not moving from his chair. Gabe sighs and seats himself in front of his son.

"I may have been a bit harsh earlier," he apologizes. "I wasn't being professional, but you also–"

"Doctor?" RONI cuts Gabe's words short.

"I know," Gabe yammers. "Just be quiet! Anyways, I want to cure you completely. And everyone is worried about you. Joshua, will you please cooperate with the exams?"

One word escapes Joshua's mouth: "_Sorry…"_

"Huh?"

Suddenly, Joshua begins to cry, tears sliding down the sides of his cheeks, splattering onto his blue T-shirt. His eyes begin to turn red as more and more tears gather in his eyes, brimming to the top and escaping out the very peak. The salty tears travel down every angle of Joshua's face as he whimpers, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Hey, hey," Gabe normally doesn't see people cry, much less his own son. "It's all right… don't cry!"

Joshua only gives a sniffle. "But… it's all my fault. I… didn't want my mom… or that nurse… to worry about me," he snivels in between sobs. "I'm really sorry. I just made everyone worry even more. I… won't hide anything anymore. I wanna get out of this hospital!"

"Yeah… I understand," says Gabe, though his heart is sunken down with sadness when Joshua had included his mother and his nurse, but hadn't included his father.

"Actually, my tummy feels a little weird," Joshua admits. "Can you check it out, Doctor?"

"Of course," says Gabe. "Leave it to me. "RONI, are you ready?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "I am fully prepared."

"All right," says Gabe sharply. "Let's continue the exam!"

"I'm really sorry that I lied all this time," Joshua whimpers. "It's not just my tummy. My back's been starting to hurt, too."

"Back pains… his condition must be getting worse," Gabe murmurs. "RONI, make a note."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Back Pains."_

"It doesn't hurt so much that I can't bear it," Joshua continues, "But it hurts a lot. Also, I don't feel well. I feel like I'm gonna throw up any minute…"

"He feels like he's going to vomit, huh?" Gabe mutters. "Sounds like he's finally telling the truth about something. RONI, this is important."

"Indeed, Doctor," RONI agrees. "New symptom observed: _Nausea."_

"Um… if there's anything more, I'll tell you right away, Doctor," says Joshua.

"That's a good boy," Gabe praises. "Hang in there a little more."

Then, the most unlikely thing happened, but it happened, and so, a drop of golden sunlight seems to stream throughout he room. Gabe can feel his whole heart lighten in relief as Joshua Cunningham smiles.

This somehow gives Gabe a little more energy as he proceeds with the rest of the diagnosis. A little longer, Gabe successfully matches all the symptoms with Acute Pancreatitis.

But it's not over yet.

**+++PHASE THREE+++**

"Um… so have you figured out what's wrong with me, Doctor?" Joshua asks.

"It's going to take a little longer," Gabe replies. "We need to keep examining you, but is your body alright?"

"It still hurts, a little… but you're gonna fix me soon, right?"

To Gabe, Joshua sounds like a baby again, tugging at his legs, asking him to fix his injured finger or something. Something in his voice jolts some distant memory from Gabe's head… but before he can let his emotions get the better of him, Gabriel Cunningham replies hastily, "That's right. Hang in there, but if it gets too much to handle, you tell us right away. Okay?"

"Okay," says Joshua. "I promise!"

"Let's resume with the diagnosis," says Gabe.

"Anything else that's weird?" Joshua muses, picking up the pace, "Um… I-I'm not hiding things anymore! Um… I've started getting real thirsty. I've been going to the bathroom a lot, too."

"I see," says Gabe. "This is polydipsia and polyuria. It's small, but it's crucial. RONI, make a note."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Polydipsia and Polyuria."_

"Um… that's it," says Joshua. "Is that important? It's… uh… kinda embarrassing."

Gabe figures that it's best to not push Joshua any harder, and goes on with the diagnostic results.

_Serum Calcium_

_Normal: 8.5 – 10.2_

_Measured: 12.7_

"His blood calcium is way past the average levels," Gabe comments. "RONI, you got that one?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _High Blood Calcium Level."_

_Serum PRL_

_Normal: 3.6 – 12.8_

_Measured: 14.2_

"Yep, abnormally high PRL blood level," Gabe mutters. "RONI, mark it down."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High Serum PRL Blood Level."_

_Serum Phosphorus_

_Normal: 2.5 – 4.5_

_Measured: 1.5_

"Hmm… his serum phosphorus level is abnormally low," Gabe continues, not missing a beat in his diagnosis. "RONI, another piece of the puzzle."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Low Serum Phosphorus Level."_

_Serum Gastrin_

_Normal: 40.0 – 140.0_

_Measured: 439.0_

"Hmm… the serum Gastrin level seems unusually high."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High Serum Gastrin Level."_

_Intact-PTH_

_Normal: 10.0 – 60.0_

_Measured: 382.0_

"His intact-PTH is showing some very high levels," says Gabe, beginning to get very worried. "RONI, put it in his chart."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High Intact-PTH Level."_

"What the _heck?" _Gabe curses. "A number of abnormal levels have suddenly appeared…"

"The cause is unknown," RONI pipes up, "But the analysis is at least 97% reliable."

"I know," Gabe snaps bitterly, remembering the tumor argument earlier. "That's why I'm worried. Let's go back to my office. I need to sort through the latest data."

Gabe begins with trying to match symptoms with hyperparathyroidism, but fails. "There's a number of symptoms which don't apply," he sighs. "But… hyperparathyroidism seems to be the closest match, right?"

He scrolls down the information sheet, reading the paragraph at the very end:

_An X-ray examination can confirm the presence of subperiosteal bone resorption on the thumbwards sides of the index and middle fingers…_

"Scintigraphy and X-ray examinations will be necessary to make a definitive diagnosis," RONI supports.

"Well then, let's get approval right away," says Gabe.

"The X-ray and scintigraphy exams are now available," says RONI.

Gabe nods in approval and rushes to the Image Analysis Lab. The scintigraphy gives bad news faster than RONI can make a calculation.

"It's showing abnormal accumulation of technetium in the parathyroid gland," Gabe sighs miserably. This isn't just some random patient, this is his _son. _And now, Gabe might as well be giving Joshua his death sentence. "There's no mistaking it. That's parathyroid adenoma."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, sharing none of Gabe's woes. "New symptom observed: _Parathyroid Adenoma."_

Gabe moves on to the X-ray of Joshua's right hand. His beady eyes immediately pick out the sliver of difference in Joshua's fingers.

"The bones in his fingers have gotten thinner?" Gabe wonders out loud, incredulous, although he knew that this would've happened. "His bone resorption must be advancing!"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI automatically. "New symptom observed: _Subperiosteal Bone Resorption."_

"It's pretty clear that hyperparathyroidism has set in," Gabe moans, wondering if his son will ever live. However, there's still a dangling ribbon of hope… "But what about the symptoms that don't apply?"

"Doctor, until the primary disease has been identified, we must continue the diagnosis," says RONI.

As much as Gabe wanted to drop this task, he knows that he must step forwards and face the shroud of darkness that is Joshua's mysterious ailment. He has to save his son… or he will regret it forever.

"No turning back now," Gabe decides. "We need to figure this thing out!"

Gabe heads back to the exam room, and much to his horror, finds Joshua horribly mute and silent. His smile is long gone, and a touch of sadness haunts his eyes.

"Joshua, are you all right?" Gabe asks, though clearly, Joshua Cunningham is not all right.

"Huh?" Joshua jumps in his seat. "Oh, when did you come in, Doctor?"

"You… didn't notice?"

"No," Joshua shakes his head. "Something's weird… it's like I can't see very well…"

"You can't see very well?" Gabe asks, astonished. "Can you tell me more?"

"Okay," Joshua sighs. "I really didn't see you come in, Doctor. I mean, it's weird, right? The door's right there… but I totally didn't see when you came in."

"He must be undergoing a visual field loss," Gabe murmurs. "Joshua, where is it hard to see? Is it the right and left edges of your eyes?"

"I think so," says Joshua. "I can't see right and left…"

"Just as I thought," Gabe sighs bleakly. "It could be in the eyes, it could be in the brain. We need to do an MRI."

"Understood, Doctor," RONI agrees. "New symptom observed: _Visual Field Loss. _And the MRI exam is now available."

"And my head hurts, too," Joshua supplies, desperate to tell Gabe something before he takes off for the Image Analysis Room."

"Stomachaches, back pains, and now headaches," Gabe groans sympathetically. "This has to be hard on him… I need to find the answer quickly."

"I agree, Doctor," RONI chimes in. "New symptom observed: _Headaches."_

Without wasting any more time, Gabe runs to see the MRI images.

"Huh?" Gabe stammers, his cigarette falling out of his mouth, trailing behind a grey column of ashes. "His pituitary gland's gotten so large…! No question, this is a tumor."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Tumor Shadow on Pituitary Gland."_

"Huh?" Gabe falters, astounded by the sudden turn of events. "All the symptoms seem to point to… pituitary adenoma? First the parathyroid gland, and now the pituitary gland? Dammit, what in the world?"

"Doctor," RONI calls softly, "I have located one case in the archives which matches this scenario."

RONI hasn't been lacking in her work, at least.

"What?" Gabe mutters. "I didn't tell you to do that. How'd you…?"

"I applied the _to hell with that _algorithm recently entered into my registry and made a judgment call."

"Huh?" Gabe gapes, and then the full meaning settles in. "Hahaha! The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, eh? Even a robo-apple. Now _this _is the kind of partner a doctor should have at his side!"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "I have indeed been designated as your partner. But the news is not good. This is a disease where the probably of onset is one in ten thousand."

Gabe's laughs falter to a stop as his eyes grow wide. "Where is it? Show me the data _immediately!"_

"Yes, Doctor. I have added this diagnosis candidate to your database."

"Got it." Gabe looks at the name of the disease: _Wermer's Syndrome._

"Wermer's syndrome?" Gabe asks incredulously. "That's _impossible!"_

"I must disagree, Doctor," RONI sighs. "The probability of this match is roughly 70%."

Gabe muffles his scream in his sleeves, and desperately checks the article for any sign of help.

_While there should be tumor shadows on the pancreas in a CT exam, they will be very small and difficult to discern with the image analysis._

"To verify this, we need to check for pancreatic tumors," Gabe says, anguishly trying to hold onto one strand of hope that his son doesn't have Wermer's syndrome. "RONI, order a CT scan so I can examine… the patient's… pancreas."

"Dr. Cunningham, should I also request that the patient be assigned to another doctor?" RONI asks helpfully.

"Don't make me repeat myself," Gabe says through gritted teeth, clenched against one another in distress. His smile is long gone, and his eyes have taken a new meaning into them. "I don't pick and choose my patients. I'm a diagnostician. I find the symptoms. And I diagnose the disease. That's all there is to it."

RONI only squeaks out an, "_Understood."_

Gabe strides with authority to the Image Analysis Room, ready to face the CT scans that will determine his son's fate.

"I guess that's that," Gabe sighs, jabbing a finger at the fourth image. "These shadows look like the pancreatic tumors all right. RONI, I need to make sure of this. Collate it with the case data."

"Understood, Doctor." A moment later, she speaks again: "Nine matches with previous cases confirmed. These are pancreatic tumors."

"I see," Gabe moans. "I think for once, I'm not so excited about your accuracy."

RONI isn't sure how to reply to this, for she shares no bond between herself and Joshua. "New symptom observed… _Tumor Shadows on the Pancreas."_

"This needs to be dealt with at once," Gabe declares. "If his condition worsens any more…"

* * *

"Dammit!"

Maria Torres's familiar voice echoes throughout Gabe's office. A moment later, she storms in, blasting the door into his walls.

"This is bad, Gabe!" she cries. "Joshua's only getting worse!"

"It's Wermer's syndrome," says Gabe nastily, looking at RONI's screen, with his son's profile displayed on top. "He's going into septic shock. I'll… leave the treatment to the other staff."

Maria has gone through plenty of horrific things and heard even worse, but nothing shocks her as much as this does. "_WHAT?"_ she screams in Gabe's ear. "Joshua's your _son! _Get over there and go see him!"

"Me going there won't change anything," Gabe sighs bleakly, purposely avoiding Maria's murderous gaze with those huge green eyes of hers. "I gave my diagnosis. The rest is up to you guys."

"You're an absolute _disgrace!" _Maria scowls angrily. She storms out of the room and slams the door shut.

A few minutes of silence, and then RONI talks, her screen fading back to its originally pulsing blue color. "You are incorrect, Dr. Cunningham."

"What?"

"I observed tension in your vocal cords just now," says RONI. "Your words are not congruous with your true feelings."

"And?" Gabe spits. With one motion, he slams his hand into RONI's screen, pushing it backwards into the wall behind her. "And… what? You mean you can tell everything about me?"

He gives a snarl as the sound of breaking glass ripples throughout the room.

"Am I that wrong? Is everything my fault?" he continues to yell.

Gabe picks up the ruins of what used to be his assistant and smashes her onto the floor, causing vases, pictures, and other assortment of things to fall from his shelves. "I can't make him happy as a father! I can't use a scalpel and save him myself!"

Gabe throws his coffee table onto the wrecks of RONI. "There's nothing I can do! Nothing, _dammit! _It was all pointless… hey, RONI, you know what? I'm the worst father out there."

Grief. Anger. Sorrow. Guilt. All of these mixed emotions slur into one as they attack Gabe's empty heart endlessly, and they will do it for eternity. Even if Gabe's body will rot to dust, they will steal occupy his cells, and never leave. Grief courses through his veins like a river flowing through, only it's contaminated with flickering images of his son who grew up without a father. Anger steals Gabe's flesh and bones as he continues to throw anything that comes his way; televisions, radios, books, computers. Sorrow explores his mind and brain, turning the smallest amount of light to darkness, mourning Joshua Cunningham in a dim world without candlelight. Guilt gnaws away at his very soul, and Gabe has to fight back his sudden urge to cry.

It feels good to be yelling it out, letting all the anger flow from his body, from where it had been caged for years. Gabriel Cunningham is a beast, now, rampaging around his office, or what used to be office. His hands come by a framed photo of Joshua Cunningham, but that is set down gently in the mess. Joshua. Joshua. Joshua. The only word echoing in Gabe's head is Joshua. His inner tears are flowing rapidly now, threatening to break away into the outer world.

_I'm the worst father out there. The kid... hardly knows my face. And now that he's dying... I don't even go to look at him, and comfort him. I can't even save him myself! What's the point? I diagnosed him... and he didn't recognize me! H-He's changed so much... since I last saw him... and... he... he... he grew up... without me... without a father... I... a-a-abandoned... h-him... how could I? HOW COULD I ABANDON MY SON, DAMMIT?_

When Gabe is finished is rant, what used to be the proud computer standing by the diagnostician's side is reduced to a pile of useless metal and wires. Her entire system has been torn inside out, and glass is everywhere, but somewhere, RONI still manages to find the strength to speak her last words.

"_Dr. Cunningham, do you truly feel your work is pointless? There is one thing that is unclear to me. All people die, so medicine is ultimately pointless. But Doctor… I have observed patients leaving with smiles. Is helping people smile pointless as well?_

The howl of static in RONI's cracking words fade to nothing, and her screen stops pulsing. Gabriel Cunningham squats by his computer, in the mess that used to be his office. Chairs, desks, and tables are overturned, books and magazines turning into rubble as it only adds to the mess. Broken chair legs and ripped paper are everywhere, and it will take several weeks for Gabe's office to return to normal. However, right now, Gabe doesn't think about the consequences to come, and merely rests his head in his hand, and eerily begins to laugh. Maybe he has finally lost hold of his sanity, or maybe he's regained it. Either way, Gabe is laughing, something he had thought that he would never do again.

"Well, whaddaya know… you're right! I can't believe a machine talked some sense into me… RONI, get ready for surgery! Contact the ER and nursing!"

Somewhere far away, RONI hears Gabe's triumphant words and her screen flickers to life, pulsing blue ripples as always. Her screen may be cracked and her pride thoroughly insulted, but it doesn't matter. "Yes, Doctor. The operation can begin in five minutes."

Gabe steps out of the whirlpool of wreckage and stops in front of his door. "I won't let Joshua die. As a doctor, or as his father. Let's go!"

* * *

Okay, I lied. It wasn't 7000 words long. I estimated it to be, but... well, fk has found another proxy (WHICH HAS BETTER STAY ACTIVE AND WORKING) and it cuts off the video at some parts. For instance, the end of Phase Two, I had to check a walkthrough guide and make sure that it was acute pancreatitis and not something else. So... yeah. There you have it.

Gabe's epilogue, Going Away, will be up soon. Next is Tomoe, and the rest figure it out.

~fk


	29. Gabe: Epilogue: Going Away

**EPILOGUE  
Going Away**

"I thought you'd be here. The Chief told us. Is it true?"

Hank strides onto the rooftop, making way to the silhouette standing against the sun's shine.

"I've decided to file for divorce," says Gabe coldly, showing no emotion at all. "I'm leaving Lisa. She'll get custody, and I'll be a bachelor again."

"And what're you going to do?" Hank asks.

"After I leave here?" Gabe snorts. "Haven't really given it much thought. I'll just go retire somewhere and open up a rustic clinic."

Hank lets out a huge sigh of disgust. "We're all gonna miss you… Tomoe, Maria, even the kid…"

"Don't give me that," Gabe snaps. This isn't like him, so serious and so brisk. "You guys will replace me in no time."

"Well, we'll find another diagnostician," Hank protests, "But…"

His voice trails off as Gabe makes for the exit.

"Gabriel!" Hank shouts.

"Old soldiers don't die, Hank," says Gabe, and a familiar smile plays around his lips. "They just fade away. See you again sometime, kay?"

The door slams shut and he's gone.

* * *

The next chapter in the chronological version is "44. PZ: Prologue: Patient Zero".


	30. Tomoe: Prologue: Chieftain's Daughter

**PROLOGUE**_  
Chieftain's Daughter_

"Everything has been prepared for your departure, Lady Tomoe," says the butler, Hanzou, talking rapidly as he walks to the pool Tomoe Tachibana is bathing in.

Surrounded by the steaming water thundering down in front of her in a small waterfall, Tomoe doesn't even turn around to look at her butler in the face. No, all Hanzou gets is a look at her long black hair flowing freely down her back and being blown about by the gentle wind.

"Very good, Hanzou," says Tomoe briskly. "Go on ahead and wait for me there."

"As you wish." With those words, Hanzou departs the pool as Tomoe carries herself out of the boiling water she seems to be unaffected to.

Tomoe pulls on her traditional scarlet clothes, talking to herself as she goes. "By the eight million gods that exist to protect this world... I, Tomoe, daughter of Tachibana, shall heed the path of honor!"

Around her, white things fall, though if it's snow or feathers, it's impossible to tell as they blur around in an endless hurricane, surrounding the young doctor. Her kimono is pulled tight, with a white shawl settled around it.

"Let the heavens be my witness!" Tomoe shouts to the sky, her strange purple-colored eyes blazing strong.

As she heads for the wooden mansion her family lives in, an entire row of servants wait for her on the porch as she walks through them, never letting her gaze falter. And like that, Dr. Tomoe Tachibana says her goodbyes to Japan and prepares for the ride to America.

* * *

Just gonna warn you now, the proxy only lets me upload one video a day, so chapters might come once every three days or something. And... fk's computer crashed, the one with Word in it, and her century-old PC computer that belongs to her mom doesn't have Office. SOOO... she's gonna send all chapters to mf, who's gonna upload.

Or upload at school. *shrugs* Same thing

For the chronological edition, the next chapter is "25. Gabe: I: Signs of Anguish".


	31. Tomoe: I: Insecure Smiles

**CHAPTER TWO**  
_Insecure Smiles_

Tomoe Tachibana stands beside her butler, watching their helicopter rise from the roof in a storm of wind, and venture into the baby blue sky. The chopper blends in with the puffy white clouds that hover above as it disappears from view completely.

"Heeeey, Tomoe!" a familiar voice cries. Tomoe turns to find another chopper to replace the last, only this time, it's not a traditional Tachibana helicopter. No, this one is a classic red-and-white colored chopper that signifies the presence of a Resurgam First Care paramedic. Sure enough, one hand gripping tightly to the door blasted wide open by the current, and her green-and-yellow jacket clearly showing against the dull colors of the chopper, is Maria Torres, here to welcome Tomoe herself.

"Ah, good morning, Maria," says Tomoe happily, walking towards the tanned paramedifc in the gentle step the path of honor had taught her. The helicopter's blades slowly falter to a stop and Maria clambers out. "Today's a fine day, don't you think?"

"Yeah!" Maria says hastily, rubbing her hair, always wondering what Tomoe's problem is. "Hey, aren't you on night shift today? You're here early."

"Yeah," Tomoe replies. "Joshua's operation has been scheduled for today."

Although her voice delivers the bad news of an operation, especially to her good friend Gabriel Cunningham's son, Tomoe's smile never wavers from her face and her large purple-pink eyes are always alert and bright, seeking for every detail in Maria's face.

"Oh!" Maria gasps, suddenly remembering. "Gabe's son, right? I completely forgot!" Annoyed at her own memory, Maria's forehead meets her palm as they connect together with a _smack_.

"It _is _only an ulcer treatment," Tomoe assures her. "I'm sure it will go smoothly."

Tomoe is absolutely sure of it. Every foot steady on her path of honor, she knows the way an endoscopic machine moves as it travels into the deep inners of a patient's tubes and intestines. An experft surgeon, Tomoe has done far worse than an ulcer treatment.

"Cool," says Maria, knowing very well about Tomoe's skill, and that she will use every effort to save a patient. "I'll go in too, as your support! Okay?"

"Oh..." For once, Tomoe's face falls in apology. "But you can't, Maria. Didn't you work here overnight? You need to rest!"

"I'll be fine!" Maria laughs, very much used to Tomoe's constant worries about her fellow surgeons' health. "This is why I work out! Just let me grab a shower."

Maria runs off, grinning, but Tomoe takes another step forwards. "Maria!" she calls.

But Maria Torres is long gone, and the bang of the door shutting closed ripples in the air. Tomoe sets down her outstretched hand, and smiles again.

"Oh, well," she sighs. "Refusing a friend's kindness is not the way of honor. Hanzou, please make the preparations for the operation."

Hanzou, his hair graying, fading to white, yet his suit as crisp and dark as always, replies. "Certainly, milady."

In the green-themed operation room, Tomoe Tachibana and Maria Torres crowd around the forest green operation table. Beside them are other assistants: Emma and Darnell. Needless to say, Joshua Cunningham is already unconscious, knocked out and already given painkillers.

"We will now begin treating the ulcer using the endoscope," says Tomoe, her voice with an upbeat tone to it, even in grim situations like this one. "Hanzou, my instruments, please."

Hanzou appears at the door, right on time. "As you wish," he says, wheeling in Tomoe's custom-made endoscopic machine.

"Holy moly, _WHAT IS THAT?_" Maria shrieks at the sight of the _instruments_ Hanzou is wheeling in. And indeed, this machine is not like the default versions of the drab Resurgam tools, but is made of wood and metal, paintings of flowers decorating the sides. The smell of fresh wood can be sensed in the air, even with the heavy dose of medicine in the operating room.

"This is Lady Tomoe's personal endoscope, built to her orders," says Hanzofu, almost proudly. "The grip is boxwood, embellished with golden bellflower"

The rest is self-explanatory. The tall machine is donned with starry decorations in pale yellow, with a spotless screen at the top., Buttons, wires, and other assortments of tools spit out in every direction, but in some reason, it looks much more organized than usual.

"Built to her orders?" Maria quotes. "You had an endoscope made _just for you?_"

"The path of honor demands that I use the best tools I can," Tomoe shrugs. "Gold is non-toxic. Also, it is thinner, thus less intrusive"

"Still," Maria protests, "To shell out the cash for your own endoscope?"

Tomoe sighs, clearly knowing that Maria is notf getting her traditional ways. "And now, let us get this conference under way! Maria, where are Joshua's parents today?"

"Huh?" Maria asks, startled by the sudden change of topic. "Oh, his mother can't be here because of work. His father... he _works _here! We've got written consent!"

"I see," says Tomoe, apparently not disturbed by Gabe's ignorance, though it is clearly against the path of honor. "Then, I presume there are no further complications. The path of honor demands we save this child's life!"

"R-Right!" Maria stammers, and the operation begins.

Tomoe and Maria start out with some basic procedures to check that the machine is functioning properly, and hadn't been damaged by the helicopter ride. After finding that it works perfectly, they head in to find the ulcer.

"This truly is a quality machine," Tomoe comments. "I'll have to thank whoever built it. Well, the endoscope seems to be working fine. Let's begin the actual procedure."

"First, we must locate the affected areas," says Maria. "Let's move forward until we find them."

Tomoe agrees and moves the tube further down Joshua's inners. It doesn't take long before she tracks down a scarlet pool sticking to the walls.

"These... are blood pools," Tomoe says. "Let's treat them using the drain."

The red disappears. "The blood pool has been treated. Let's continue with the operation."

Tomoe shoves the cord further into Joshua's body, taking care to avoid the walls that can result in harm. There are several twists and turns, but Tomoe manages to push her way through, though admittedly, with several incidents that the endoscope had nearly collided with the walls.

"Vitals are still dropping," Maria gently reminds Tomoe. "We must hurry and find the affected area!"

Tomoe nods, and picks up the pace slightly. Soon, she manages to find the area Maria had described.

"This area is hemorrhaging," says Tomoe sharply. "Let's use the hemostatic forceps."

A little while later, the hemorrhaging area, and the blood pools that had surrounded around it, are gone.

"Hemostasis has been completed," Tomoe briefs, not pausing to give Maria rest. "Let's mvoe on to the next treatment... the vitals seem low. We should do something about that."

After jacking up vitals to a higher, preferred level, Tomoe keeps going, determined to find the ulcer and abide to the path of honor. It doesn't take long to find the white-shaped object in front of her.

"This... it's an ulcer," she declares. "Let's treat it by injecting medicine."

One vial of the syringe goes down, and the ulcer melts away.

"All right," says Maria happily, "the first ulcer's been treated! Watch the amount of medicine you use, though."

"It seems there are more affected areas," Tomoe continues, briskly. "Let's keep moving in."

Indeed, there are. "Here's an ulcer. Let's inject it with alginate solution."

Another vial of blue medicine disappears into the pale yellow ulcer, and that, too, melts away with the solution.

"We're done treating the ulcers!" Maria exclaims.

Tomoe puts up a hand in the general direction of her assistant, though her eyes are still focused on the screen in front of her that shows the feed from the endoscope. "Carelessness is our greatest enemy. Some ulcers cannot be found visually."

"Huh?" Maria asks, taking a step back. "What're we supposed to do then?"

"We'll be using a spray to cause those ulcers to change color," Tomoe answers. "Please remember all of that, all right?"

"O-Okay," Maria stammers meekly, and it is true that she almost never assists in endoscopic operations.

"Let's see, for example..." Tomoe nudges with the endoscope, looking for suspicious places. "I'm going to mark an area that looks suspicious. Let's try the coloring spray on it."

Maria nods hastily and Tomoe sets a wave of the spray onto the walls.

"Ah, there's that ulcer!" Tomoe beams. "Okay, inject the medicine."

The bluish ulcer disappears, and the endoscope keeps moving in. It reaches Joshua's stomach, apparently where the affected areas are concentrated around.

Ulcers, blood pools, and hemorrhaging are quickly treated with Tomoe's expertise. However...

"The patient isn't stabilizing," says Tomoe worriedly, looking at Joshua's vitals. "We should use the spray to make sure."

Indeed, one hidden ulcer is hiding within Joshua's stomach banks. One injection and it's gone, heading for the fate previous ulcers had gone through. In other words, well, gone.

"Procedure complete," Tomoe smiles. "Well done, everyone."

"Operation complete," says Tomoe merrily, withdrawing the endoscope from Joshua's body. "I'm sure Joshua will make a full recovery."

That's the beauty of endoscopy. There's no incision when going in, and no need for sutures or staples when heading out. No blood, no mess, just a beautiful endoscope machine.

"Way to go!" Maria grins, clapping her friend on the shoulder. "Haha! It went perfectly, that's our Tomoe!"

"Th-Thank you," Tomoe stutters, trying to recover from the surprise Maria had given her. "Your support was valuable too, Maria."

"Aw, I didn't do all that much," Maria protests modestly. "Oh! I need to contact his mom!"

"Indeed," Tomoe agrees. "Don't forget to tell Dr. Cunningham, too."

Maria shows a flash of her gleaming white teeth. "Man, parents always worry about their kids. Even the people from my orphanage bug me whenever I see them! Always asking me when I'm getting married... stuff like that!"

"I... see..." Tomoe says slowly.

"Huh?" The paramedic's smile drops off her mouth. "Did I just say something I should't have?"

"Ah, no, no!" Tomoe cries hastily. "My mother died when I was young..."

"Oh," says Maria, and she can sympathize with that, too, because after all, she had lost both of her parents, which is why she had ended up in an orphanage. "But, uh... your dad's still alive, right?"

Tomoe's brilliant grin also disappears as it flies off to join wherever Maria's smile is. Her face falls sadly and her big purple eyes decrease dramatically. "As to my father... I had a fight with him when I left Japan."

Maria scratches her head, fuming at her tongue. "Oh, um, geez... sorry. I don't know when to shut up."

Tomoe's eyes grow big again and she holds up her hands, protesting. "Oh, no, it's not your fault at all, Maria!"

"O-Okay... anyway, I'm sure your dad's wishing you the best! I mean, you are the best endoscopic surgeon in America!"

Tomoe's pale white face flushes with Maria's compliment. "The best? Aha... thank you, Maria."

"Heheh, no problem!" Maria smiles. "C'mon, let's go get our grub on!"

Nurse Emma appears in front of the two surgeons. "Ooh! Doctor, I wanna go too!"

Darnell catches up with his associate, "Hey, you have reports to write up! It's my turn today!"

"What, you guys want in?" Maria asks jokingly. "All right, this night's on me!"

* * *

*sighs impatiently and waits infuriatingly for the proxy to load Moment of Zen...*

Chronological story: "37. Naomi: Prologue: Unexpected Reunion".

~fk


	32. Tomoe: II: Moment of Zen

**CHAPTER TWO**  
_Moment of Zen_

Gabriel Cunningham strolls through the green bushes that line the garden at Resurgam Firsrt Care, but his job isn't to frolic in the lush meadows, but to find...

"Tomoe?" Gabe grumbles, shoving through a line of branches. On the other side, he does find Tomoe Tachibana, but not in the way he expected.

The expression on Gabe's face is absolutely priceless as he watches an arrow enter the right side of his vision and exit the left field, connecting to a wooden archery target at the other side and sticking there. The arrow had soared through the air so fast, Gabe didn't even have time to scream out before the arrow lands one millimeter from his nose.

Tomoe Tachibana is the one manning the bow.

"Ah, good morning, Dr. Cunningham," says Tomoe merrily, as if she is unaware of the fact that she had nearly shot through the head of their prized diagnostician. "Did you need me?"

Tomoe's hair is swept up into a long ponytail that gathers at the top of her head, and she seems much more alert that way. Her white-and-blue dress doesn't quite fit for archery practice, but somehow, it works for Tomoe. Her eyes are wide and alert as always.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?" Gabe roars, recovering from the fact that his associate had almost killed him. "I don't remember this being here!"

Gabe's face is purple with rage, his eyes narrowed in frustration.

"Failing to train would be straying from the path of honor," Tomoe answers, not showing one sign of emotion, even as Gabe stomps furiously to her. (Well, she is armed...) "One must maintain a strict regimen in her life and heart."

"All right, I see your point," says Gabe sarcastically, but he knows better than anyone else to not argue with Tomoe Tachibana, even if she nearly shoots you. Believe him, after dealing with Hank Freebird's sudden falling into a garbage can will do that to you. "Anyway, turn on the news."

"The news?" Tomoe asks, interested.

She claps twice, and turns around, giving Gabe a very healthy look at the strands of hair running down the upper white part of her dress. Behind Tomoe stands Hanzou, holding a... portable televion.

"We bring you back to our continuing breaking news!" the news reporter on the screen exclaims. "Drug kingpin Theodore Gacy was arrested today by a masked man. In transport, Gacy ingested a large quantity of drugs. He is apparently unconscious and in critical condition!"

"Theodore Gacy. That bastard who made a living in smuggling," Gabe sighs, not mentioning the fact that Hank had disappeared when he heard the news. "He'll be here in about ten minutes."

"He needs an operation, then?" Tomoe inquires.

"Yeah," Gabe answers, "Though I don't care much. The moron ate his whole stash. We need to get the drugs out before the bags open side him."

Tomoe doesn't even bother turning around this time, and frankly, her butler is quite used to that. "Hanzou!" Tomoe calls.

"So, Pathology Department's making an antitoxin for the drugs," Gabe continues to explain, heedless of the fact that Tomoe and Hanzou have vanished like ninjas. "But- ... sheesh, I wasn't done, you know..."

If RONI had been there, she would've marked Gabe down as "Insane for talking to thin air."

* * *

"Check for vecuronium!" Esha Patel yells in the operating room. "See to the vaporizer! Where's Tomoe?"

"I'm sorry I'm late!" Tomoe cries, running up behind the chief. "Hanzou, get ready!"

"Understood," Hanzou replies in his husky voice.

"Whoa!" Esha panicks, turning around and getting a faceful of Tomoe's long black hair, now let down freely. "When did you get here?"

"There isn't much time, Chief," Tomoe says briskly. "The conference, please!"

"I-I know that!" Esha protests. "I was just waiting for you! Listen up, the patient's gone into shock. There's no doubt the drugs in his stomach are seeping out. We have no idea what condition he'll be in, so be careful!"

"Understood," Tomoe declares. "Beginning the operation!"

"The patient's swallowed a lot of toxins," the chief warns as Tomoe eases the endoscope into Gacy's intestines. "If he starts going into shock, it'll be fatal!"

"Once we've found the substances, we will use the forceps to retrieve them. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I believe in you. Do it!"

A few seconds later, Tomoe reaches a hemorrhaging area. That quickly disappears, but then Tomoe finds a foreign subject, which she pulls out. The chief frowns in bemusement.

"We've retrieved the drugs, but something's not right... this isn't as much as had been reported."

"It's too soon for them to have been absorbed by now," Tomoe follows, "That means..."

"Right," Esha sighs. "Unfortunately, they must have gotten separated since they were swallowed."

Tomoe's eyes widen in shock. "If the drugs he ingested get absorbed into his body, he'll go into shock. We have to go search for them immediately and retrieve the ones that remain!"

The young surgeon reaches the stomach. It's dark, but she still manages to find the hemorrhaging and the drugs. Supported by the small beam of light coming from the head of the endoscope, Tomoe urges the machine to delve deeper into the stomach, looking for affected area after another. But still...

"Strange... we've searched the entire stomach, but the remaining drugs are nowhere to be found," Esha muses.

"If that's the case, they may have progressed into the small intestine," Tomoe whispers bleakly. "There isn't a moment to spare!"

A few torturous minutes later, after Tomoe has pulged the small intestine of affected areas... operation successful.

"Man, that scared the life out of me!" Esha gasps. "I'm glad it ended safely."

"Oh, Chief, I'm sorry to worry you like that..."

* * *

"Alright, do we have the antitoxin yet?" Esha yells.

Thundering footsteps can be heard even beyond the green-tinted glass walls of the OR. And from behind the door, Hank Freebird bursts into the room.

"What did you do that for?" Esha gasps. "The door, it's..."

"I'm sorry," Hank pants, one hand pressed against his humongous chest, trying unsuccessfully to regain his breath. In his other hand is a syringe with blue liquid inside. "Here's to antitoxin!"

"You galoot... give it here!"

Esha snatches the syringe from Hank's hands. "Tomoe! Administer this to the patient!"

"Right away," she obeys.

"Work!" Esha prays, walking closer to Theodore Gacy, still and unmoving. "Work, dammit! Breathe! C'mon!"

Gacy gives a shudder, and heaves in a violent breath.

"I'm so glad," Tomoe whispers, because after all, it is against the path of honor to lose a patient.

* * *

Honk if you think Tomoe's gone crazy.

Anyways, THANK YOUS GO OUT TO FANTASYREADER123/EMMA FOR MIRRORING VIDEOS 4 AND 5 FOR ME! And to mf, too, for mirroring 6 and 7 (which will probably be the next chapter).

Chronological version: "19. Hank: II: Time For Trouble".

~fk


	33. Tomoe: III: Marionette's Lament

**CHAPTER THREE  
**_Marionette's Lament_

"Today was exhausting," Tomoe sighs, strolling along the wooden porch. "I don't think I've ever laughed so much."

"You have indeed changed, Lady Tomoe," Hanzou replies.

"What's that?" Tomoe asks, turning around to face her aging butler.

"Have you not noticed?" Hanzou answers. "When you are with them, you laugh a great deal more. You seem a different person from the one you were in Kouga."

"Yes," Tomoe agrees, her smile back on her face. "You may be correct. When I am with them, I feel... happiness. Living and fighting to share the joy of life with friends... I never felt this way when I lived within the clan."

Suddenly, a dark shadow creeps from behind Hanzou, and Tomoe can see it. However, no matter how old the butler may seem, he can sense movement with expertise. And as quiet as the shadow may slither, it always reaches Hanzou's ears.

"Who's there?" he demands, and Tomoe's smile dissolves into a frown.

Suddenly, figures melt into the night, their silhouettes barely made out by the hanging porchlights. However, it's unmistakable to identify them: dressed in black costumes, they were definitely ninjas.

Tomoe's people.

"Stand aside," the lead figure orders. "We have been sent to call on Lady Tomoe."

"You underestimate me," Hanzou grunts. "By your leave, milady."

"Hanzou, wait a moment," says Tomoe, as her butler sweeps a sword from its sheath. "What is your business with me? Speak now."

"Master Yoshikage has fallen ill," the same ninja answers, and as much hatred as Tomoe has stored into her, it's simply against both herself and the path of honor to ignore an ill father. "He asks for you to return."

"My father?" Tomoe asks carefully, as if wondering if there is another being in the world also called Yoshikage.

"Lady Tomoe, this may be a trick," Hanzou warns, for many people may want to slay the Tachibana dynasty. "You must be careful."

"This is no ruse," the ninja states. "In seven days, the clan elders will gather. The future of the clan will be decided. Lady Tomoe must go."

"I see," says Tomoe airily. "However, I have issues I must attend to here. I will leave for Japan once my affairs are in order."

"Please excuse me," the figure in the shadow protests, "But there is no time. You must-"

Without a word nor a single glance at the kneeling ninja, Tomoe snatches the broadsword from Hanzou's grip and swishes in front of the arrival's nose, so that he gets a nice long look at the sharp edges that gleam even in such dim light. "I am a doctor," Tomoe snaps. "No child of Tachibana abandons her duty!"

"... As you wish," the figure whispers reluctantly, and with the same reluctance, the remaining figures vanish back into the night that will claim them all.

"Lady Tomoe, are you certain about this?" Hanzou cautions.

"Turning one's back on destiny is against the path of honor," Tomoe replies fiercely. "I'm going to bed. I feel things will be getting busy soon..."

* * *

"... So treating one area not going to be enough," Hank drones, prepping Tomoe for the operation coming up, but even he notices the absence of Tomoe's alert eyes today. "Dr. Tachibana, is something wrong?"

"Ah... hmm?" Tomoe starts, jumping slightly. "Oh, no! It's nothing!"

"I'll continue with the conference," Hank sighs, "But are you sure?"

"Oh yes, pardon me," Tomoe rushes, though her mind is obviously occupied about something unrelated to the operation: her sick and dying father.

And so, Tomoe starts the operation with despair.

The patient has polyps in the large and small intestine, which seems fairly easy to treat. Ulcers, however, are also found, but those are quite simple, also.

Scarlet traces of blood and hemorrhaging is obvious, sticking out of the pale intestine walls.

Halfway, peristaltic motion attacks the endoscope, shoving it back, trying to keep the foreign object out of its body. It's only a form of self defense, as Tomoe will put it, so she keeps moving forwards, as if trying to convince the patient's intestines that she is actually trying to help. And so, she pushes through the peristaltic movement, and finds more affected areas.

Soon, all large intestine polyps are gone, and so, all the ones left are in the small intestine.

The small intestine narrows as Tomoe goes, and she takes great care to avoid bumping into the walls, but even with all her expertise, twice the endoscope brushes along the edges of the patient's intestine.

The polyps are soon found, though, which pays off somewhat. Hank offers Tomoe chances to swap for another surgeon, but she refuses, even when polyps had turned malignant and transformed into tumors.

"That completes the operation," says Hank eventually. "Dr. Tachibana, are you really alright?"

"Um, yes," Tomoe stammers, though we all know that she truly isn't.

* * *

"Well, we're all done here," says Tomoe, clearing up her last operation. "Hanzou, did you inform the chief?"

"I told her that you will be taking some time off," Hanzou replies. "However, I doubt we will be able to return that easily."

"I see," says Tomoe. "Thank you."

Hanzou and Tomoe leave the operating room, entering the bright orange and yellow walls of Resurgam, so differently colored from her mood right now. Esha Patel catches up with them just as they round a corner.

"Oh, Tomoe!" she calls.

Tomoe turns around, knowing that this will not be good. "Chief...!"

"What's the matter?" Esha asks, concerned. "It's not like you to suddenly take leave..."

_I can't tell her the truth_, Tomoe warns herself, and speaks the half truth, because lying is not the way of honor. "I'm going to go back home for a short while."

"Oh, is that so?" Esha asks, relieved, and a smile forms around her face. "Let's all get dinner when you're back! I found this amazing Italian place, it's great!"

"Um, yes," says Tomoe uneasily.

"Oh, you don't like pasta?" Esha asks disappointedly, taking Tomoe's reluctance the wrong way.

"Oh no!" Tomoe protests. "I'd love to go!"

"That's the spirit! Have a safe trip, then! See you later!" The chief walks off, leaving Hanzou and Tomoe together.

"Lady Tomoe, are you sure?" Hanzou asks, not for the first time that day, nor the tenth.

"Hanzou, there is nothing more to discuss," says Tomoe impatiently. "When I came to this country, I thought I had found freedom. And yet... all of it was merely the illusion of freedom. My house, my clothes, even you, faithfully serving me. I only have these things because of my Tachibana name. For my entire life, I've merely been a puppet of my family."

"Lady Tomoe..."

"Let's be on our way," Tomoe shrugs, suddenly smiling again. "Hanzou, ready the helicopter."

"... As you wish."

* * *

The first time I saw Tomoe in the next chapter, The Healing Warrior, I freaked out. So good luck to you, too...

Thanks, mf, for mirroring the two videos in this chapter! Wow... I thought that four videos could last me a week, but they only lasted two hours... Oh, right, since I didn't do my History homework... ah well, I should get going now. :) Thanks guys!

Chronological version: "39. Naomi: II: Wandering Girl".


	34. Tomoe: IV: The Healing Warrior

**CHAPTER FOUR**  
_The Healing Warrior_

The night, cold and black, illuminated only by the full moon hanging in the starless sky; filled with the crickets and croaks of frogs as they hop from stone to stone, shadows basked by the moonlight; even the cherry blossoms seem to have a voice, for they shiver in the chilling breeze, scattering their blooms across the Tachibana house in Japan. And through the dank times of the night, Tomoe Tachibana sits alone on the highest porch of her house in Japan, appreciating the night while she still has the chance.

"Lady Tomoe, they're ready to see you now." The silky voice comes from behind Tomoe's back, a slithering, sly voice, as if she is trying to trick Tomoe into something. Maybe she is. Seeing Master Yoshikage is almost like a death trap.

"I will be right there," says Tomoe quietly.

And through the giant doors that separates Tomoe from her father sits Master Yoshikage, in a grand throne that seems to be set for the emperor himself. And even in the cold presence of a powerful man, whispers still carry themselves through the dim light. "Have you heard? It seems Lady Tomoe has returned."

"Of course she has," another voice exclaims softly. "Her leaving this place was a mistake!"

"This family needs her," declares another person. "She needs to stop playing!"

And in the room kneels eight men, heads bowed in the direction of Master Yoshikage, sitting in front of them. They cleave a wide path, a deliberate movement, to have Tomoe Tachibana get a clear, good look at her father, and vice versa.

"Announcing... Lady Tomoe," the silky female voice from before calls. And Yoshikage's face hardens, his many lines of burden burrowing deep inside his forehead, cheeks, and other places. Scars from many battles still haunt his face, making him look more terrifying than he should be, but even with his eyes closed, you can sense the power this man has.

But when the doors open to reveal Tomoe, clad in a traditional purple dress with red and pink blossoms, Yoshikage's eyes blink open to reveal icy blue pupils, taking in every detail of his daughter carefully. Tomoe's hair has been done up, not in the ponytail she wore at training just mere days ago, but fancily tied up in the way royal people do. Her eyes are slimmer now, no longer the wide eyes they used to be. And with the dark objects around her, her face seems paler than ever.

Tomoe Tachibana is no longer the young and carefree girl from before, dancing with the wind with pleasure. Now, she is a member of a royal family, no longer recognizable by even the people most familiar with her.

Only her voice remains the same.

"It's been a while... Father..." Tomoe whispers, but even her soft voice carries across the room, to where her father sits, naked from the waist up.

"Indeed," says Yoshikage, his voice colder than the night breeze blowing outside. "Have a seat."

His voice shows no emotion for the daughter he has lost for several years. He treats Tomoe... almost like an outcast. Maybe she is one.

Tomoe walks down the path, though surely, it is not one of honor. She kneels at her father's feet, abiding the traditions. "I'm glad to see you are well. I'd been told you were ill."

Tomoe plays this carefully, for one wrong move, one word slipping out of her mouth, might never let her leave Japan.

"The elders leap to conclusions," Yoshikage grunts. "Merely a lung problem."

"I see," says Tomoe warily. "I'm relieved to hear that."

"However, it is true that I am not as young as I was," Yoshikage objects, the lines of his face forming a frown. "The elders feel that the clan succession must be decided."

"I cannot presume to understand to what you mean by that," says Tomoe.

"It is simple," says Yoshikage, and he can feel the breaths of everyone in the room stopping as they hear the words they expected. "I will find a suitable... husband... for you."

Even years of training to keep her face straight in even the most outrageous incidents cannot prevent Tomoe from lowering her gaze and her head, her hair bobbing behind her. Whispers start again in the room, and tension stretches like an elastic band.

"Will the Lady refuse?" one man whispers. "This is unprecedented..."

"Selfish girl... she takes the Tachibana clan too lightly..."

"I shudder to think what will happen in the future..."

Tomoe closes her eyes, so changed by the shadows, and whispers, "I humbly..."

Before she can accept, knowing very well that it could be her only way out of Japan, the giant doors behind her are kicked back and a very familiar voice screams out.

"Whoa, hold it right there!"

And behind Tomoe is the grinning face of... Esha Patel... and the reluctant look of Gabriel Cunningham.

"Ch-Chief?" Tomoe stammers, flabberghasted. "Dr. Cunningham?"

"Yo, Tomoe!" the chief grins. "We came to rescue you!"

"I fly to Japan for a conference, and get into this," Gabe snarls unhappily. "Gimme a break..."

"Who are they?" Yoshikage roars, even more thrown off by this than Tomoe when she heard about her father's command. "What happened to the guards?"

"Are these the kind of people our Lady is associating with?" the eight men furiously discuss.

"Such insolence! Seize them!"

"YOU FOOLS!" Yoshikage yells, his mouth opening wide to show an array of perfectly white teeth. "BE SILENT!"

And the room falls silent, and the grin slips off Esha's face, turning into an outrage of determination.

"You two are from America," Yoshikage scowls. "Are you here to take Tomoe back?"

"Of course!" Esha declares, and Gabe's mouth opens in shock. "Tomoe is one of our trusted doctors and a friend! We're not going to let her be given away without her consent!"

"Hmm." Yoshikage's eyes close again. "I have yet to hear an answer from my daughter. Tomoe?"

"My answer?" Tomoe whispers, her face fallen with regret. "Father, I..."

Before she can complete her answer for the second time, a noise of disturbance echoes around the room, and suddenly, the tension drops into fear as Master Yoshikage falls over.

"This isn't good! M-Master!"

"A-A doctor! Call a doctor!"

"Y-You fools! Hurry up!"

Tomoe's years of training floods back to her with a warm wave of relief. She rises with an aura of leadership, storming to where her father lies. "Quiet! Panicking on the battlefield is not the path of honor! Gotou, call for a doctor! Ikeda, ready a bed! Get water!" As the room empties, Tomoe rushes to Yoshikage's side. "Father!"

"He's got tension pneumothorax," says Gabe bleakly, catching up with Tomoe. "He'll go into arrest soon!"

"What kind of man is this guy?" Esha exclaims. "I can't get a needle in!"

"You require an open airway?" Hanzou asks, hearing the commotion and running up to where the three doctors stay. "Stand aside!"

And Hanzou, with dozens of years more practice than Tomoe has ever had, draws a sword from his sheath and runs up, charging. One burst of blood as the sword charges into Yoshikage's body, and then an opening is clear. Only someone with years of practice could've avoided cutting through Yoshikage completely.

"All right, it's in!" Gabe says, not even pausing to thank Hanzou, nor wipe the blood from his jacket. "We've cleared a way for the air to escape! Now what? How can we operate if a scalpel won't cut his skin?"

Indeed, Yoshikage's muscles have been packed so hard, layer over layer, that it has formed as an armor for her. Even now, Gabe doubts if a bullet can pierce his chest."

"Hanzou, my tools!" Tomoe cries. "Prepare for an operation!"

"Hey, what're you going to do?" Esha cries, aghast.

"if the cause is a ruptured bulla, we can close it off," says Tomoe. "I can seal the hole in his lung with fibrin glue!"

"It's worth a shot," Gabe agrees, for he knows that the only other way is an endoscopic operation. "Let's do this! His right lung is leaking air into his thoracic cavity! We don't have any more info, so we'll have to look around!"

"Understood!" says Tomoe, not wasting any breath. "Beginning the operation!"

"There isn't a second to lose," Gabe warns her, for this can be fatal if they don't close it up within ten minutes.

"I understand! Time for my Tachibana-style endoscopic skills!"

And Master Yoshikage Tachibana lies, as his forgotten and hated daughter operates on the only family she has left.

The lungs are full of branches, and it's easy to get lost, but Tomoe has memorized them so well, she knows the way around. The lung is truly like a maze, trying to steer Tomoe lost in as many ways as possible, but the chain of affected areas leads Tomoe right to the ruptured bulla.

A truckload of hemorrhaging has affected the ruptured bulla, but to Tomoe, it was just another speck of dust in her way. Within minutes, she had solidified the glue sealing off the bulla.

Operation complete.

* * *

"You've awakened, Master."

Yoshikage Tachibana opens his eyes, only to see Hanzou standing before him.

"Where is she?" Yoshikage grunts, and by "she", Hanzou can guess that he meant his daughter whom only a few minutes ago meant trash to him.

"We have loaned her a jet," Hanzou shrugs. "She is likely returning to America. The elders had no response to her excellent reactions."

"I see."

"Oh, I nearly forgot," Hanzou suddenly says. "Lady Tomoe has left a message for you: I must learn more if I am to master the way of honor."

"That minx," Yoshikage grunts. "So, she has no intention of returning, then. Hanzou, it is your duty to watch over Tomoe. Go."

"You mean..." Disbelief settles over the aging butler.

"What use does our clan have with an untrained girl?" Yoshikage says coldly, not even thankful of the fact that his daughter had just saved his life. Maybe this is his way of repaying her: letting her leave Japan and live the life she wanted.

"Very well, then," says Hanzou shortly, and departs.

Yoshikage laughs, and it ripples across his mansion, his land, and across the cherry tree, still spreading its blossoms.

* * *

"Wow! This plane's crazy!" Esha exclaims, boarding the exclusive Tachibana jet, first class all the way. "Can we sit anywhere we want?"

"Of course," says Tomoe warmly, thankfully dressed in her usual clothes: the kimono, and her white shawl. "It belongs to the Tachibana clan."

"Stop getting excited over everything," Gabe admonishes, though a grin still licks his face. "Are we getting a meal?"

"Yes, of course," Tomoe rolls her eyes, familiar with Gabe's humongous appetite. "Feel free to have as much as you like."

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with leaving your butler?" Esha asks, settling herself into a seat.

"Hanzou..." Tomoe sighs, "He has served me well for all this time. I cannot force him to come along with my selfishness."

"Well, don't worry," Gabe yawns, spreading himself across three seats. "Just hire yourself a younger, hotter guy."

"I thank you for your unnecessary concern, Dr. Cunningham," says a voice, and Tomoe turns in shock to find her butler striding up to where they stand/sit. Gabe, in his shock, falls out of his seat and crashes to the floor below.

"GAH!" Gabe screams from his position on the floor, buried under the table, "How long have you been standing there, Gramps?"

Tomoe's shock quickly settles to relief as she hears the voices of Gabe, Esha, and Hanzou arguing. She leans towards the window, looking at Japan spreading across them yet gliding ever farther away, and murmurs her goodbyes: "Until we meet again, Father..."

* * *

There. You have a legiminate excuse for everyone in the Tachibana clan being crazy and whacko. Plus Gabe and Esha.

Last chapter of Tomoe is Resolution, the mall one when that bus crashed through the mall (gee, Mrs. Frizzles, drive carefully, won't you?)

Thank yous go out to mockingjayfire again for mirroring vidoes 8 and 9 for me. :)

And... I'm hoping that you're getting my request for clicking that shining review button down there. :)

Chronological version: "5. CR S01: III: History of Fear".

~fightakirby


	35. Tomoe: V: Resolution

**CHAPTER FIVE**  
_Resolution_

"Wow. So that's what happened," Maria laughs, listening to Tomoe's dramatic tale about her even more dramatic escape from Japan.

"Indeed," Tomoe agrees, smiling. "It is because of them that I was able to return."

"Are you sure?" Maria grins. "Sounds to me like they just caused you trouble."

"Oh, not at all!" Tomoe cries, not getting Maria's humor. "I... everyone is always helping me... I want to be the one who helps everyone else that one day."

"Huh, is that so?" Maria snorts, her eyes taking that tired expression. After all, she had tried to be a hero, too. "But man..."

And Tomoe continues to drag Maria through the mall they are shopping in, with the paramedic complaining the whole way. "This is shopping for dinner? How much do you eat?"

"Did you say something?" Tomoe asks innocently.

"Nah, never mind," Maria sighs. "Nothing."

They continue walking, with Tomoe pulling bags of carrots and cabbages onto the evergrowing pile of food on the cart. Maria distracts herself by looking around the mall, and... "Isn't that Gabe and Hank?"

Indeed, it is. "Hey, fancy running into you guys," Gabe grins, holding up a hand in greeting. "What're you up to?"

And then a bus crashes through the mall in a wave of debris and dust.

* * *

Through the crackling rubble, Maria groans. "Oww..."

"Maria!" Tomoe cries, gathering herself up from the floor. Years of training had taught her to break her fall, so she is uninjured, but Maria..."

"I'm fine!" she says quickly. "What about everyone else?"

Hank Freebird steps out of dust, his eyes closed, fighting against the dust entering his lungs.

"Are you all right, Dr. Freebird?" Tomoe exclaims, rushing up to her accomplice. "Where's Dr. Cunningham?"

Same old formal Tomoe, always "Dr. Freebird" and "Dr. Cunningham", never "Hank" or "Gabe".

"I don't know," Hank gasps. "He was right in front of me..."

And Hank turns to the wreckage, as a tide of voices and shouts, wails for help, rises up to him like a tsunami about to strike.

"Dr. Freebird, please lend me a hand!" Tomoe cries, and drags Hank off, leaving Maria alone.

"H-Hey, Tomoe!" Maria cries, frightened. "Where're you going?"

"I'm going to look for Dr. Cunningham downstairs," Tomoe answers, her hair jetting out behind her in a wave of black. "We'll leave the people on this floor with you, Maria!"

* * *

"It's as I feared," Tomoe gasps. "The rubble's blocked the way through!"

"Dr. Tachibana, what are you doing?" Hank exclaims.

"I'm going to use my endoscope to look for any victims!" Tomoe replies, not even pausing for breath. "I need your support, and if you could, please rescue the others!"

"I'm on it," says Hank immediately. "But please, be careful!"

And Tomoe eases in her endoscope into the rubble, fighting against a wave of ruined metal, wood, and other objects. "I'm going to investigate the rubble and find the victims! Even if we can't treat them now, if we at least know where they are, they'll be easier to rescue! The endoscope is a medical tool... it's not meant for this kind of treatment. Running into hard obstacles and walls will damage the endoscope. If the endoscope stops working, we'll have to stop the search temporarily! We'll need to be very careful as we proceed!"

Her long speech done, Tomoe enters the world of clanging metal and torturous screams.

The light from her endoscope shines on a closed eyelid. "I've found a victim! Now that we know where to l ook, the rescuers will have an easier time..."

"Dr. Tachibana!" Hank cries.

"Dr. Freebird!" Tomoe replies briskly, "How are the other woudned who need help?"

"They've all been taken to the first floor. The only ones left are the ones trapped under the rubble!"

"Understood. Let's do our best until rescue comes! I need to reel in the endoscope and check if it's working."

It is. But before Tomoe can continue, a loud bang comes from within the mess. "Look out!" Hank cries.

"What just happened?" Tomoe shrieks.

"The bus above us is losing its balance! Dr. Tachibana, it's too dangerous here!"

"No," Tomoe whispers. "If the bus falls now, the people trapped in here will be..." She didn't need to finish it. Hank can finish for himself: they will be obliterated into smithereens.

"Let's hurry," he says simply.

A moment later: "I've found a second victim! He's breathing, but I can't do anything!"

"Let's hurry, we must focus on what we can do, not regret what we can't!"

Tomoe reels the endoscope back to check its condition, and it's alright. She suddenly hears a cry for help, and goes toward that voice. It echoes in the metal, a gasp for breath, like a dying voice.

"I've found a third victim!" Tomoe declares. "Please record where we located this person!"

"Understood!"

And finally, Tomoe hears a man's sigh, panting for breath against the mass of the metallic maze. Tomoe's endoscope lands on a person's ear, presumably the driver, but... it's not Gabe.

"That's a fourth person," she whispers. "Where's Dr. Cunningham?"

"Doctor, reel in the endoscope. We need to make sure it's functioning."

Tomoe does so, and this time, she knows that she will find Gabriel Cunningham.

"Found him!" she cries in joy. "Dr. Cunningham, can you hear me?"

"Ngh..."

"He moved!" Tomoe exclaims. "We must call for the rescue team immediately!"

"We've located all the victims!" Hank says.

"W-We must hurry and get the rescue squad!" Tomoe whispers. "They need to be rescued!"

"Please calm down, Dr. Tachibana," Hank orders. "The only thing we can do is wait and believe in them!"

* * *

"There he is," says Tomoe gratefully, watching the paramedics pull her associate from the rubble. "Dr. Cunningham, can you hear me?"

"How is he?" Hank calls in unison. "Is he all right?"

"He's moving! He's alive!"

And then, the joyous reunion is stopped by the sudden creaking of the bus above them. For a while, the school bus had been perched on the second floor, half of it already leaning over the edge and the broken railings. But now, most of the second floor has fallen away... and it's beginning to tilt over the edge.

"That bus is coming down!" Hank screams, though anyone can see that. "Tomoe, you have to get out!"

"No, I can't!"

"You'll be caught in the crash! You must move, now!"

"Again, I have to be saved by others," Tomoe groans, her eyes closed and an aura of concentration blooms around her. "Why did I come back? There must be something I can do!"

Tomoe leans down. "Dr. Cunningham! Everyone! Can you hear me? It's going to be all right! You'll be rescued in no time!"

"Dr. Tachibana, what are..."

"It's against the way of honor to put my own well-being first!" Tomoe cries, her eyes set in a line of stubborness that has kept her alive for so many ears. Her mouth is open in a defiant cry no one can hear. "These people are waiting to be saved, at this very moment! I will not run away!"

As if on cue, the bus crashes down. Hank steps in front of Tomoe, bracing his arms, as if it will help him impact the crash, and protect the crouching young girl, her hair blown about messily, but her eyes are shining, wide and bright.

And then, comes the savior.

"YOU AIN'T GOING NOWHERE!"

With a roar of anger fueled by worry, Maria Torres finds a hook somewhere in the rubble and, just as the bus slips away from the second floor, she slips it around the fender. Her heels dig in, fighting against the weight of the bus dragging her down, into that endless pit of despair... but she will fight it. This is her chance, to be the hero she has always wanted to become. And the bus stops its fall, settling in the middle of the air, with only the hook to keep it afloat. Her face lined with fatigue and ebbing strength, Maria squeezes her eyes and pulls up, even though the bus is threatening to tear her arms off. It doesn't matter. This is the final showdown, the time she has been waiting for since she was fourteen years old. And the bus perches there in midair, wondering if it should obey Maria's command to not leave its grasp on what's left of the second floor, or simply fall. It aches to fall, to just thunder down there. What's the harm? But...

The bus stays.

"It... stopped?" Hank whispers. He straightens, and looks up.

"Heeeey!" Maria screams. "Hank, Tomoe!"

"Maria!" Tomoe calls back, her face flushed with relief. "Everyone!"

And on the second floor, help has arrived as dozens of well-built paramedics heave up the job Maria had started. Esha Patel's familiar voice carries over everyone else's: "Team One, search the area for survivors! Get triage started!"

"Please be careful of more falling rubble! It's still unstable!" Emma calls from behind the chief.

"Work with the team below, and let's pull this bus back up!" That is Darnell's voice.

And over all the determined voices of the young saviors is the overlapping sound of sirens. Help is coming... no, help is here.

* * *

"Yo..."

Even with bloodstains on his jacket, a cut over his left eye, his hair messy and untidy, Gabriel Cunningham still has his old demeanor and humor.

"Dr. Cunningham," Tomoe breathes in relief.

"You're all dirty, kid," Gabe laughs gently, not even taking a look at himself. "Covering up your beauty, y'know?"

"I'm sorry," Tomoe sighs. "I couldn't do anything by myself after all."

"I heard you," Gabe chuckles. "Your voice. I could hear you calling to us. That's how I made it through... thanks."

Tomoe's head lowers as she thinks of her voice. Were they really that demanding, calling for them to stay alive? Were they really that inspirational, enough to keep someone on the verge of death alive? Tears slide out now, gliding down Tomoe's dusty cheeks, but they hold happiness inside them, not sorrow.

"Oh, c'mon," Gabe yawns. "Don't cry now. I'm still alive."

Maria runs up, done with her patients, and observes Tomoe's tears. "Hey, why's Tomoe crying?" she scoffs, and glares at Gabe. "What did you say to her, you bastard?"

"But-" Gabe stutters.

"Shut up about your excuses!" says Maria.

"Come on!" Gabe protests. "I fell off the second story and I'm almost dying here..."

* * *

The epilogue, Unknown Future, will be up in the next few days. Thanks, mf, for mirroring 10 and 11 for me! ^.^

Psst... press the Review button? Pleaaaaaaaaaaaase?

Chronological version: "16. Maria: Epilogue: Together In Spirit".

~fightakirby


	36. Tomoe: Epilogue: Unknown Future

**EPILOGUE**  
_Unknown Future_

Most of the time, it would be Gabe sitting at one's bedside, comforting them, letting them know that they will be okay, and live through it.

This time, it's Tomoe who sits there silently, as Gabriel Cunningham recovers from his two-story crash in that mall incident. Tomoe does seem to be worried, though she has an odd way of showing it; no tears shine on her pale cheeks this time, but instead, her eyes are focused on the paper in front of her as she leaves marks of ink on the page.

"If that's a love letter to me, stop," says Gabe, with his usual hint of humor. Even on the verge of death, he can still crack jojkes. "I'm still married."

"Oh, are you awake?" Tomoe says, looking up from her letter. "No, I'm writing a letter to my father." Obviously, she still doesn't get Gabe's humor.

"Really," Gabe mutters sarcastically, pushing himself up from his bed, "What, did you guys come to a truce or something?" The last time Gabe checked, Master Yoshikage had tried to make Tomoe marry and dragged her to Japan.

"Isn't it normal for a child to want to talk to her parent?"

"I guess so," Gabe sighs, remembering his son. "It's kind of creepy when you put it that way."

Tomoe's eyes close as she thinks back to those dark and cruel nights, the moonless sky that banished her happiness. "Ever since I left the Tachibana home, I've strained myself. I wanted to be known for my own strength, not my family's. But... I've come to a realization. No one grows up all at once. Instead of acting like someone you're not, do your best... and work your way towawrds being the adult you want to be."

"Sheesh, what kind of a kid are you?" Gabe laughs, not getting through Tomoe's preaching. "That's how life is. Well, the fact that you've realized that proves you've grown. Good for you. Try to take it easy from now on."

Tomoe's face lights up with the smile Gabe is so familar with once more. "Yes!" she grins.

"Now, I'm kinda thirsty," Gabe yawns, relaxing back, reverting back to his old, lazy self. "How about getting me a coffee?"

Tomoe rises, about to give Gabe her own comeback. "Dr. Cunningham, relying on others is not the way of honor. You must do what you can to help yourself."

"You just said that people shouldn't be straining themselves!" Gabe protests.

"Oh," says Tomoe matter-of-factedly, and quickly diverts Gabe's attention to the cast on his arm. "I don't recall your arm being broken. Does it hurt?"

Softly, Tomoe's fingers ease carefully forwards to brush the clean white bandages, but no matter how gentle her touch may be, pain shoots through Gabe like a cow devouring grass. "Ack! Y-You idiot, are you trying to kill me?"

"Oh, I-I'm sorry!" Tomoe cries, her hands withdrawing from Gabe's body, "Are you all right?"

"Gah!" Gabe screams, "Don't touch me! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Not at all!" Tomoe exclaims. "If it hurts, then it must be examined."

"Just... leave me alone!"

And the arguments of Tomoe Tachibana and Gabriel Cunningham fade away to a whisper as it drifts away in the morning wind. On the rooftop, Hanzou stands, facing the rising sun, and chuckles softly as he hears Gabe's yells of frustration coming from the open window. "It seems it will be a while before she returns..."

* * *

And... that wraps up Tomoe's Story! Next is Naomi, which mockingjayfire will be handling... FINALLY... and she's a bit of a slow writer... though the result is truly amazing. So after about a month or so, she should be done Naomi, and then... by that time, I'll have, like, half of Patient Zero done. So be looking forwards to it! Cheers!

Chronological version: "29. Gabe: Epilogue: Going Away".

~fighterkirby


	37. Naomi: Prologue: Unexpected Reunion

**PROLOGUE**_  
Unexpected Reunion_

"_Corpse Whisperer."_

The name is jostled around, back and forth, echoing throughout the halls as Dr. Naomi Kimishima confidently strides through. She knows she will be allowed admittance, and that these whisperings are nothing but meaningless lies. Being gawked at, speculated upon...one gets used to that after a while.

The doctor enters the Chief's book-filled room, though, with a sense of deep foreboding. The Chief calls. That can't be good.

"Did you call for me, Chief Wayne?" the mysterious doctor inquires.

The Chief turns around to analyze her. Testing her capabilities. "Good morning, Naomi. It seems the FBI needs your _expertise,"_ he says casually, cautiously. He can't afford to lose her. She's one of his best workers. "I'd like you to head over to the scene immediately."

With a barely visible flip of her silver hair, Dr. Kimishima replies, "I'm a medical examiner. Not a police officer."

The Chief is worried. He knows Naomi has little respect for government agencies. And yet, he knows she won't turn down a case like this. "Don't be like that. I can't just turn the government down."

"Fine," she says just as casually as the Chief. "Well, then…"

As she turns to leave, the Chief suddenly interrupts her. "Oh, and Naomi?" She turns around. "One more thing."

A blond man in a business-like navy blue suit steps out from behind the door. The Chief continues to explain. "Here's our liaison from the FBI. You should meet him."

The doctor's blue eyes flash coldly with apprehension. "_You?"_ She knows fully well who this man is, but never expected to meet him…least of all in a place like this.

The newcomer meets her eyes directly, showing no recognition, apology or fear. "Special Investigator Navel. A pleasure to meet you, Doctor."

Naomi knows how this game is played now. She recomposes herself. "Yes…pleasure to meet you too," she answers, in a forced voice that isn't really hers. Navel still resumes his faintly interested expression, yet Naomi knows he's just pretending. _He's got some experience with that..._

She locks eyes with her liaison. _Game on._

_

* * *

_

"What are you doing? You, an FBI agent? This must be a joke!" Naomi asserts to her companion.

Heads begin to turn. Navel glances around and gives a small, nervous laugh. "Please keep your voice down. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Naomi ignores his attempt at lightness and continues her brisk stride down the clinical hall.

"And besides…I didn't have the luxury of witness protection, like you."

Unfazed by Navel's idea of small talk, Dr. Kimishima keeps walking. "Just shut up! I'm only here because it's my job. I have nothing to do with you _faking_ your way into the FBI." She pauses. "And don't you_ ever_ talk about my past again."

"Whatever you say, ma'am," says the agent with a hint of his old sarcasm.

"Good." Naomi resumes her quick stride down the hall...without Navel.

"Whoa, where are you going?" asks Navel, completely taken unawares.

"To the crime scene! Send the address to my GPS!"

"Oh. I'll…have them bring the car around." Navel tries to smile, but can't. Naomi turns back.

"_You_ are waiting here. Tell your people on site I'm coming."

"Huh? But…um…" Navel can't think of anything to say.

Before he can react, Naomi takes hold of his tie. "Nice tie, Little Guy. Now be a good boy and stay." As quickly as she had startled Navel, she runs off to the scene.

"Huh? Doctor!" It takes "Little Guy" a while to process that. "Oh, well…"

* * *

mf here, for once. For the next few weeks, you've got me, and...to put it simply...I don't update lightning-fast. I have homework, competitions, and so on. My writing style's a bit different, too. Aaaaand...wait for it...I don't ship Naomi and Navel. God help me with this fanfiction.

fk here. Yeah, you can see a serious change of writing style here since mf uses bigger words and writes so much better. :) Get used to it.

For the chronological version, the next chapter is "17. Hank: Prologue: Captain Eagle".

~mf (AND FK)


	38. Naomi: I: Locked Room Mystery

**CHAPTER ONE  
**_Locked-Room Mystery_

"Ah... we've received word about you!" says the police officer standing at the entrance to the crime scene. "Ms. Kimishima, is it?"

"Good," says Naomi icily. "This'll make things easier. Where's the victim?"

"He's over here," the burly guard replies. "This way, please..."

The officer and his partner, just as big, lead Naomi up the rickety staircases and to the crime scene. Naomi enters the room cautious, looking around at the fallen table, the burnt floors, the broken fan...

"Victim is, uh, Dennis Tayler, 30-year-old male. A neighbor called in the fire, and the firemen found him. The knife in his hand matched cut wounds. Probably suicide."

Naomi turns, frowning, and points at the table falling on its side, the wood scorched black by the flames that had leaped forth. "What's this?"

"Oh, that's where the fire started," the officer shrugs. "Likely before the suicide."

Naomi only grunts as she stares at the burn marks intently.

"Ms. Kimishima?" the officer asks hesitantly, but it's too late. Naomi has already begun to slip from the real world and into her death one; her slim phone, clutched tightly in her hand, begins to softly glow and hum as it emits a light purple trail of something that looks almost like smoke. With closed eyes, Naomi slowly lifts the sleek black phone to her ears.

This phone isn't like an ordinary phone; it's one that is the bridge between life and death, for it can hear the dead's last words. Naomi listens intently for Dennis Tayler's final words before his life was cut short...

"_S-Stop! You...! NO!"_

The message ends there, and Naomi, as if disappointed, sets the phone down. The glowing stops and the world grows bright again, as Naomi takes one step back into reality.

"Are you feeling all right?" the officer nervously asks.

In a cold reply, Naomi turns to face him, staring at him with intense blue eyes. "This was murder."

* * *

Outside, Naomi departs the crime scene with just as much iciness as she had come in with, leaving a chilling linger of it behind. "Send the corpse to CIFM immediately," she orders briskly. "I'll examine it. I want all finger and footprints found in that room. If you find anything, contact me directly. I'll be at the lab."

She climbs into her dark black car, and drives away, leaving the two guards still stunned and speechless at her sudden declaration of murder and everything odd she had done, so to say, everything.

"What was that about?" one guard asks.

"Well, she does work at the forensic medicine laboratory," the other one shrugs. "Supposedly, she's solved a lot of cases for the FBI."

"Th-The FBI?" the first guard cries, shocked.

"That's right. That means we need to keep out of this."

* * *

"Let's begin," says Naomi out loud. "This is Dr. Naomi Kimishima, ID 422194. Hey, Little Guy, tell me what we know so far about this."

"Oh, right," comes Little Guy's hasty voice over the intercom. "The victim's a 30-year-old Dennis Taylor. At 3:30 PM, someone in the same building reported a fire. The firefighters found the body in bed 20 minutes later. He had a knife in one hand and a deep wound on his wrist. The door was closed and chained. It's being ruled suicide."

"Nonsense," Naomi snaps. "Is that your personal opinion or your FBI training?"

"Huh?" Little Guy cries, shocked. "Isn't that the most reasonable fitting explanation?"

"I thought people learned when they grew older," Naomi scowls.

"Doctor, what do you mean by that?"

"Let's begin," Naomi sighs. Explaining her phone and all would be too complicated for Little Guy's measly brain, and besides, now she has work to do. "Show me how this life's flame was snuffed out!"

* * *

Naomi starts the autopsy with examining the corpse, as always. Immediately, she locates the wound the police had talked about.

_This wound on the wrist is believed to be the cause of death. Even though this looks like a self-inflicted wound made with a sharp knife, there's something unnatural about it... there's no pain reaction._

"There's only the one wound on the wrist," says Naomi out loud. "A single slash, deep enough to reach the artery. No matter who it is, pain is an immediate response to a cut. No one should be able to make a single cut this clean and deep without flinching. I can't say this is proof of homicide, but I can't ignore this incongruity..."

Moving on, Naomi spots a flowery-shaped mark on the patient's right side, a bit past his lung. "Is this a bruise? It's oddly shaped, though."

Confused, Naomi sets the bruise question as a mystery for later, and continues the examination.

"The index finger is fractured... we can't say what's wrong with it for sure until it's sent in for analysis, though."

Naomi starts to shift upwards, and looks at the head for a long time. Many murderers strike here, one of the most vulnerable places of the human body. Frowning, Naomi leans in closer...

"There's something odd about the eyeballs here. There appear to be spots of hemorrhaging in the eyeballs... This isn't a common condition. Perhaps I should ask Little Guy about it."

Deciding that's all the information she can get, Naomi goes back to the office and begin to sort out the information. As she does, Little Guy calls her over the computer.

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima. The results of the examination of the knife have come in. The knife itself is a cheap common brand, sold all over the country. It will be difficult to locate where the knife came from. The blood left on the blade matches the deceased's. Only his fingerprints were found on the handle, as well."

"I see," says Naomi, realizing that Little Guy is talking about the knife said to be the suicide weapon. "At least one thing is clear now. This knife is believed to have been used to slit the victim's wrist. Even then, we can't prove that unless we compare it to the wound. The shape of the knife blade corresponds with the wound found on the wrist. This shows that the knife was used on his wrist. This appears to be an open-and-shut case... then again, this all seems a little too convenient for me."

Frowning about the hemorrhaging and the fractured finger, Naomi sends in the finger for analysis first.

"There's no mistake," says Little Guy. "This finger is fractured. Can you send me the details? We'll get an X-ray performed as soon as possible. Oh, and I have one more piece of good news, Dr. Kimishima. I've received a recording from HQ of a witness's account."

"Great," Naomi replies. "That will be useful. Who's the witness?"

"It's the deceased's neighbor," Little Guy answers. "We've asked her some questions about the day of the incident."

"Perfect timing," Naomi beams. "Maybe we'll be able to use her account to determine when the fire started."

"I'll send the data over to you," says Little Guy, relieved to have finally pleased the cold doctor.

Before that, however, Naomi is determined to work Little Guy to the max, and shows him the hemorrhaging in the eyes.

"Hemorrhaging in the eyes, you say?" he frowns. "It's a condition called petechia, caused by increased blood pressure and spasms in the blood vessels. It's commonly found as a sign of death by asphyxiation."

"Wait a second," Naomi cuts in. "That doesn't seem right. If I recall correctly, the cause of death was thought to be hemorrhaging from a slashed wrist. If the cause of death is asphyxiation, it's possible that we are dealing with a homicide."

Giving up for the moment, Naomi turns to the recording Little Guy had talked about, looking at the witness's name and picture. Kirsten Langley, a 70-year-old female, Dennis Taylor's neighbor. Her hair, completely white and covered in shadow, eyes looking downcast, gloomily staring at the ground.

"_Yes, that's right. It's been so hot lately. I've been keeping the window that faces out into the street open because of the heat. That's how I could hear my neighbor so clearly. It was... let me think... around three in the afternoon? Yes, it must have been. I was watching _Farewell, Danny _at the time. I heard this loud noise from my neighbor's room. And then, the fire alarm started going off a little after that..."_

"A loud noise, followed by the fire," Naomi mutters. "That may be a clue. The way she described it, the sound doesn't seem to have been something exploding. Could the noise have been made by someone in the room? Or, something else? The room was sealed, and the neighbor heard the sounds at 3 PM. The fire occurred not long after that. What we can deduce from that is that Dennis was alive until 3 PM. At least, that's all we can determine using our currently information. The deceased was alone at the time, so there's a good chance he made the noise. Still, we need more information to see if there was anyone else in the room when it happened."

"_I was really surprised!" _the tape continues to play. "_Oh, uh... I think it was about 10 minutes. I looked out the window and saw smoke coming from next door! I ran to my neighbor's door, but nobody answered when I pounded on it. But I had to see if there was anyone in there, so I pulled on the door. It was chained from the inside, and no one answered me when I yelled. Yes, the fire truck came soon after that. A firefighter cut the chain on the door and went inside. My neighbor? No, it seems he lived alone. Oh, but I remember an electrician came at around noon."_

"So, an electrician had come to the deceased's room that day, at around noon," Naomi repeats. "That was much earlier than when the fire supposedly started, but we should investigate it."

The computer begins to beep as Little Guy tries to get his message through. Naomi isn't the type to smile, but she definitely seems pleased. "Ah, Little Guy. Perfect timing. It seems an electrician entered the deceased's room around noon on the day of the incident. If he's talked to your people, can you ask them for the recordings of the interview?"

"All right, I'll contact them immediately," says Little Guy wearily.

"Please do," says Naomi coolly. "How is the analysis going with the finger?"

"Well, regarding the fracture on the corpse's finger," Little Guy begins, "The right index finger was fractured by an external force. It's rather odd... there are no signs of healing in the fractured area."

"No traces of healing?" Naomi questions. "That would mean the bone broke after he died. Reactions to injury, like minute healing and hypodermic hemorrhaging, are _vital reactions. _They only occur while the body is still alive. Thus, if there were no vital reactions to this broken bone, the fracture occurred after the person was already dead."

"That would have to be the case," says Little Guy, astounded by how far Naomi Kimishima has gone since she was at Delphi two years ago. "Oh, and to be clear, there's no way that the body was damaged during transport. We take the utmost precautions when moving bodies."

"I hadn't considered that until you brought it up," Naomi admits softly. "Still, I'll take your word for it. If his index finger was broken, using the hand would have caused a great deal of pain. With that in mind, he shouldn't have been able to use his right hand all that well."

She sighs. _All of this doesn't add up. _"There was a wound in the left wrist, and a fractured finger on the right hand. This seems odd, because the knife was in an injured hand. The deceased would have had to hold the knife in his injured hand to cut his left wrist. Then he would have to cut deep enough to sever the artery, putting pressure on his broken finger. Even if he was right-handed, this situation just doesn't add up."

Refusing to give up, Naomi tries to piece more facts together, but Little Guy interrupts.

"Hello, Dr. Kimishima," he says in a casual, pleasant tone.

"Cut the small talk," Naomi snaps, not sharing Little Guy's upbeat mood. "What do you want?"

"S-So cold," Little Guy mutters darkly. "HQ's questioned the electrician that the neighbor mentioned. I've sent you the recordings. It seems HQ already knew who he was, so there wasn't a problem."

"Now we'll find out why that electrician went to the deceased's room," says Naomi, nodding, and hurrying to the recorder to listen to the testimony.

Liam Richardson, reads the name on the testimony. Frowning slightly at the well-built man in the picture, Naomi hits the play button.

"_Yes? Oh... yes, that's right. A murder...? Y-Yes, that's fine. He said his air was broken, and it needed to be fixed."_

"He fixed the air," Naomi quotes. "We should focus on that. There's nothing odd about having a repairman come to work on the ventilation system. But, at the very least, Dennis was still alive when the electrician came. We need to learn about the deceased's condition at that time."

"_That was... around noon, I think. I got the call earlier that day. Yes, he said he needed it fixed that day, so I went straight there when I finished the job I was doing. Yeah, it was really quick. All I had to do was swap out a cable. Right, I think I was only there for about an hour. Yes, I fixed his heater."_

"He repaired the heater, at this time of year?" Naomi asks incredulously. "It's been a warm spring."

"_The customer? Hmm...well, the way he looked, I wouldn't be surprised if he committed suicide."_

"It _wouldn't be surprising _if the deceased committed suicide?" Naomi wrinkles her brow in deep thought. "Sounds like an important detail. Does that mean the deceased had a motive for killing himself?"

"_Around 3 PM...? No, I wouldn't have a clue. I was already fixing a washing machine at my next appointment's house at that time..." _The recording finishes there.

"On the day of the incident, the electrician had been asked to repair the deceased's air," Naomi murmurs softly. The electrician went to the deceased's room at noon, and left after finishing his work. Both the deceased's neighbor and the electrician himself agree on this."

Doubling back to the electrician and the neighbor's testimonies, Naomi continues investigating and, as always, talking to herself. "The last time the deceased was seen alive was between noon and 1 PM. At that time, he seemed depressed. This comes from the electrician's testimony. The last time we believe the deceased could have been alive is around 3 PM. The neighbor reports hearing a sound from the room at that time. Within an hour after that, a fire started in his room, and the deceased was later discovered dead. That's all we know at this point... hey, Little Guy, I want to go through the information that we've gathered so far."

"All right," he agrees. "Let's piece it all together, step by step. The deceased, Dennis Taylor, was found dead in his apartment. His body was discovered because of a fire."

"Yes, but by the time firefighters arrived on the scene, the fire had already gone out," Naomi interrupts. "His corpse was found on the bed."

"That's right. The FBI and police initially ruled this case as a suicide. The reason for that was the knife and the slashed wrist. The other reason was the door was locked."

"Indeed," Naomi agrees. "The slashed wrist and the chained door point towards suicide. It would seem he was so desperate for death that he would both slit his wrist and set his room on fire. That isn't a surprising conclusion."

"The knife blade does match the shape of the wound in the wrist," Little Guy points out. "The blood on the blade matches his DNA. Lastly, the deceased's fingerprints were found on the handle of the knife."

"Those were all true, but there was something odd about that wound on his wrist," Naomi argues. First, no pain reaction wounds. Another point is the knife was in his right hand. His finger was fractured. Would he have been able to use a knife with a wounded hand?"

"It's very unlikely," Little Guy admits. "But that's not the only thing that raises doubt. If he did die of the knife wound, he would have bled to death. However, investigating the corpse points to a different cause of death. That is the hemorrhaging in the eyes."

"The petechia on the eyes," Naomi nods. "And the strange bruise on his abdomen... there's more than enough evidence to doubt that this was a suicide."

"But according to the electrician's statement, the victim seemed like he might be in a state to commit suicide."

"There are too many uncertainties to be able to draw conclusion at this point," Naomi sighs. "I'm going to have to investigate the scene for myself, Little Guy. Get me approval to enter the area."

"Understood. You shouldn't have a problem, Dr. Kimishima."

"Yes, but I don't intend to waste any time," she raises her eyebrows in exasperation. "I'm going there right now. You deal with the rest on your end."

* * *

Dennis Taylor's room has scorch marks and blazing trails of ash still scattered around the room, just as Naomi had seen it before. But most of the room is intact; the fire must've been small. The table in the center of the room is where the fire was assumed to be started, but the desk several meters from it lies untouched. But hanging above the table is a fan, one of its blades torn and twisted.

"It's the ceiling fan," Naomi notes. "There's a speed selector and a timer. One of the blades seems to be broken, though. Hmm... the electrician had supposedly come to fix the air... I need to review his testimony to confirm what he actually fixed."

Sighing, Naomi bends down to inspect the table; best investigate how the fire started. "The burns are most severe right here... what was burning here? If I send this for analysis, I might find out what was on fire on the table."

Going further into the room, Naomi cautiously steps past the table, as if not wanting to disturb the dead's home. To the far corner of the room is a bed, simple and plain, with a white mattress. A pool of blood is splattered across the snow-white fabric.

"This is where the deceased's corpse was," Naomi mumbles. "If this bloodstain is his blood, then he was lying on his back. Yes, the injury was on his left wrist. From the position of the bloodstain, it would appear he was lying face-up on the bed. There is only the one bloodstain, so he didn't move around much after his wrist was slit. If this truly is a suicide, that would mean that he bled to death here, however, the amount of hemorrhaging here seems to be too small for a man to completely bleed out..."

More proof that this is isn't a suicide. Naomi stands up, and notices something that she hadn't noticed before. Above the drawer that sits to the right side of the bed is a bulletin, and several pictures scattered across it. "Who's this in the picture?" Naomi squints. The deceased's... friend? I was so caught up in the case that I didn't check the man's background..." Wanting to hit herself for stupidity, Naomi presses the speed dial on her phone. "Hello, Little Guy. Can you hear me?"

"Woah," Little Guy grumbles. "Yes, I hear you. Did you need something, Dr. Kimishima?"

"Yes," says Naomi abruptly. "Can you do me a favor and look into the deceased's friends? I'm going to send you a picture right now. Try getting a hold on whoever that is."

"All right," says Little Guy. "Is there anything in particular you'd like us to find out?"

Naomi doesn't waste her time and breath to give Little Guy his homework. "First, about the deceased himself. It'd be great to find out more about the day of the incident."

"All right," Little Guy agrees. "I'll make preparations to have them questioned. I'll send you the recordings of their answers, so please check the recorder."

"Good," says Naomi. "I'm glad you can get on this so quickly. I'll be counting on you.

Naomi ditches the crime scene and heads back to the office, snatching her recorder up once she gets there. Sure enough, just as Little Guy had said, the new recording is already there.

_James Morton, _reads the name. Head cocked slightly, Naomi presses the play button.

"_Hey, whatcha want, man? Why're you callin' me out here? Huh? You wanna talk 'bout Dennis? You're better off askin' his girlfriend. Her name's... uh... Stella. She's at the club down on Roulette Street. Yeah, she can probably tell you more about Dennis than I can. That guy, huh...? No, nothin'. He's a friend of mine, y'know? I don't hate him. We've been drinking together the night before he died, after all. Uh... he did seem pretty flush recently, if you know what I mean."_

_So Dennis had money?_ Naomi wonders.

"_He called me up out of the blue and said he'd pick up the tab that night. Well, it wasn't really important, it was just how he normally brags."_

_Bragging? That doesn't seem like the usual behavior of someone who would commit suicide the next day..._

"_He was all proud of his red Portland Jacks T-shirt he was wearin', too. The red ones are limited edition or somethin'. They're pretty rare."_

"A Portland Jacks T-shirt," Naomi quotes, this tidbit of info too important to ignore. "If he was telling the truth, the victim was wearing that shirt on the day of the incident. In any case, after hearing this testimony, it seems hard to believe that the deceased would have committed suicide. That reminds me, the man said in his interview that the deceased had a girlfriend... I wonder if HQ knows who she is."

Naomi thumbs the call button etched on her computer, and Little Guy's image immediately snaps around. "Yes? Did you call, Dr. Kimishima?"

"I need you to look into somebody for me," Naomi orders. "A woman named Stella Abbot."

"Oh, the deceased's girlfriend?" Apparently Little Guy knows this person. "Well, technically his ex-"

"That doesn't matter," Naomi interrupts impatiently. "Can you find her?"

"We already have," says Little Guy, almost arrogantly. "HQ's just finished questioning her. Should I send you the recording?"

"Please," Naomi grumbles, exaggerating the tone of it. "Now, if you don't mind."

While waiting for Little Guy, Naomi goes on with the case. _Something's not right... according to the victim's friend, the victim was wearing a T-shirt on the day he died... I may be able to learn something new from the information I've gained here. I should take another look at the victim's personal effects._

Following her own orders, Naomi moves to the examination room and inspects the clothing: black trousers... and a white jacket.

"Something about this shirt is bothering me," Naomi frowns. "The deceased was apparently wearing a red T-shirt on the day of the incident. Did he change after he got home? Or was there some reason for changing his shirt?"

"This does raise some doubts," she murmurs. "The electrician supposedly came to the victim's room to fix his air, but he didn't repair the ceiling fan? Or did the fan break after the electrician had left? In any case, I'll need to hear his account again."

Her thumbs twiddling the controls on the recorder expertly, Naomi swaps back to the electrician's testimony. _"Yes, I fixed his heater."_

"He fixed the heater," she frowns. "Something about that is odd; it's too hot to need a heater. Yes, the deceased's neighbor mentioned that; summer is already starting. And yet, on the day of the incident, the deceased wanted to have his heater repaired?

"I still have doubts. Fans circulate air within a room. If the owner was having his air system fixed, the fan should have been considered part of it. Why, then, would the electrician fix only the heater, and not the ceiling fan?"

Getting impatient, Naomi urges Little Guy by giving him the bloodstain found on the bed to analyze.

"This is a bloodstain," says Little Guy. "One moment, please... I did some quick calculations. A stain of that size would take about 800 millilitres of blood."

"The average adult male would have to lose at least 1500 millilitres in order to bleed to death," Naomi reckons. "This means that he might not have bled to death. The amount of blood loss required varies from person to person, so this isn't quite proof. It is unusual, though. I'll have to remember it. Can you analyze something else?" Naomi hands over the ash. "I've collected some of the remains of the fire. Can you find out what started the fire?"

"I can't promise anything, but I'll send it to the lab. I'll contact you once the results of the analysis come back, so please continue with your investigation. Oh, Dr. Kimishima, did you receive the voice data?"

"From the deceased's girlfriend? Have you sent it?" she asks obnoxiously, annoyed by the fact that it took him over ten minutes to send it.

"You should be able to listen to it using the recorder," says Little Guy quickly, trying not to get Naomi's cold glare dumped on him again."

"Right," says Naomi. "First, I want to know about the deceased's source of income."

"He did seem fairly well-off for somebody without a steady job," Little Guy admits.

Naomi makes a mental note to observe carefully about it while she listens to Stella Abbot's testimony.

"_Ugh... seriously? What do you guys want? I've got work to do, so let's get this over with. Huh? Dennis? You mean... Dennis Taylor? Wow... that name brings back bad memories. We broke up years ago. Yeah, at first I thought he was an interesting guy. Pretty cool and all. But... he never had a job, and he just kind of wandered through life."_

She certainly didn't think much of him, then.

"_Oh, but he always had money. I'm sure he didn't come by it honestly." _At this point, Stella gives a big sigh. _"Are you really this slow? Don't you get it? Drugs. He was a drug dealer."_

"Good heavens," Naomi breathes. "The deceased's been holding onto quite a secret. I'm going to have to change the way I approach this case. Let's go through the information we have, now that we know the deceased's true identity..."

"This is looking more and more like a case worth investigating," Little Guy agrees gravely. "If Dennis Taylor was a drug dealer, then there could be a variety of reasons to kill him."

"Still, I can't let my prejudices cloud the truth. I need to remain objective. However, it seems that we're going to have to change our views regarding this case."

"Right," says Little Guy. "I'll prepare the CSI's ALS."

"ALS," Naomi recalls. "The Advanced Light Source that can adjust the wavelength being emitted?"

"That's right," says Little Guy, impressed. "An object's visibility depends on the light being reflected from that object. The ALS lets you select a particular wavelength to focus only on what you want to see."

"Or hide what you don't want to see?" Naomi presses.

"Huh? Oh, no..."

"I'll try using it," says Naomi matter-of-factly. "Thanks, Little Guy."

But Naomi lies, and she has no intention of visiting the crime scene again until she has sorted out all the information she has...

"I get the feeling that there's something very wrong about this... At first glance, it doesn't seem like these testimonies refer to the same person at all. On one hand, drug-dealing scum enjoying his life, on the other, a man with suicidal depression? Either one of these clues is false, or there's more to this shady business that I haven't found out. In either case, the truth of the matter is that he was indeed a drug dealer."

Giving in, Naomi goes to the crime scene to try out the ALS. In front of one of the shelves that line along the walls next to the desk...

"There's white powder scattered on the floor... it looks like there are footprints in it," Naomi mutters. "I can guess at what this powder is, but I should send it in for analysis just in case." But while inspecting more closely, Naomi finds that the powder isn't really what it seems. "It trails behind the shelf..."

Grunting, Naomi shifts the drawer, revealing what's behind it. "Bingo. There's more of that powder inside this hole in the wall. What an obvious place for a hiding spot... Mr. Taylor wasn't all that clever."

Shining the ALS everywhere else, Naomi feels confident that she has found everything, and heads back to the office. She wastes no time to prodding Little Guy about it.

"I feel that I already know what it is," he sighs, looking at the powder. "I'll have it investigated in any case. Can you please wait?"

Naomi does so, drumming her fingers on the table impatiently. Several minutes later, Little Guy responds.

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima, about that white powder that was spread on the floor..." Little Guy finally says. "There were traces of drugs found within it. A number of different sets of footprints were identified in that powder, as well. They all belonged to the firefighters, police... and you, of course."

"I see," says Naomi carefully. "The room belonged to the deceased. If the drugs had been spread on the floor before the incident, his footprints should be there as well. But the only footprints in the room were from people who had entered after the fire. This would mean that the drugs would have to have been spread before or soon after the fire began."

Satisfied, Naomi goes on. "All right, let's go over the information we've gathered. First, the white powder... it was revealed to be drugs. The trail of drugs led directly to the hole behind the shelf. If the same powder from the floor was inside the hole, then it was a place to hide the drugs. But there weren't any drugs inside the hole, and the layer of drugs had footprints from the firefighters, the police, and me left in them. All of the footprints had something in common: they were made after the fire. There weren't any footprints from before the time the fire began. From this, we can deduce that the drugs must have been scattered on the floor when the fire started. If I take this even further, I'd say that it would have been after Mr. Taylor stopped moving. In other words, it must have happened between his death and when the fire started. But why were there drugs on the floor? They must've spilled out when someone removed the drugs from the hole in the wall! Denis Taylor was killed, and someone walked out with the drugs. I'm starting to get a clearer picture of what happened here, but... there's no proof just yet. I need to move onto the next step..."

"Dr. Kimishima, have you confirmed that it's a murder after all?" Little Guy asks.

"I don't know how you heard about that so quickly," says Naomi evasively. "Have you been eavesdropping on me?"

"Huh?" he gapes, falling for Naomi's trick as always. "N-No, um...!"

"Forget it," Naomi laughs. "I can see right through you."

Little Guy only gives a nervous chuckle. "Oh, right, I have a new tool for you! It's luminol. Do I need to explain it to you?"

"A chemiluminescent material based on reducing 5-nitrophthalhydrazide with sodium dithionite," Naomi shrugs easily. "It reacts to iron in hemoglobin by glowing, making it useful to find otherwise hidden bloodstains. Anything else?" she finishes smugly.

"Um... no."

"Good. I just spray this onto suspicious areas, then shine the ALS on it, right? I'm sure it will be useful. Thank you, Little Guy."

Leaving her assistant in a trance and still shocked into silence by Naomi's demonstration of what luminol is, the forensics examiner leaves the office to go back to the crime scene once more.

Dennis Taylor's room is the same as always, and Naomi sprays the luminol everywhere she can manage: the bed, the floor around it, the table, the broken fan blade, even the door. But when she activates the ALS, the first reaction to come through is on the floor, near the bed.

"So there were bloodstains here, too," says Naomi quietly. "If these are from the deceased, we may be able to use this with something else that we know."

Moving on and shining the ALS everywhere she had sprayed onto, she finds a reaction... on the fan. This eventually leads to a clue she had missed before due to the poor light conditions of the room and her fatigue settling. "There's a rope wrapped around the shaft of the ceiling fan? There's no mistakes, those are bloodstains."

But why would there be bloodstains on a ceiling fan...? Naomi continues investigating, but Little Guy interrupts.

"Dr. Kimishima, sorry for the wait," he says the moment Naomi answers her phone (the regular one). "The analysis of the burnt material has come back from the laboratory. Calcium hydroxide was detected in the sample."

"Calcium hydroxide?" Naomi repeats. "You mean slaked lime?"

"Yes," says Little Guy. "Small amounts of quicklime were also detected. Quicklime is a substance that releases a great deal of heat when it reacts with water."

"I see," says Naomi. "So this was used to start the fire."

"I agree, but isn't it odd? If the killer wanted to start a fire, there are far easier ways to go about it."

"You're right," says Naomi. "There must have been a reason for this. It's our job to investigate that, isn't it?"

Moving on to prove her point, Naomi starts piecing together the clues – right at the crime scene. "There were two different bloodstains left in the deceased's room. The one on the floor was made first, unless the corpse got up and walked over by itself. It's most likely that the deceased died where the first bloodstains were found... and then was carried to the bed afterwards. That would explain why there was such a small amount of blood on the bed itself."

Continuing the investigation, Naomi moves onto the next piece of information she had found: the fan, the rope, and the blood found on it. "The rope wrapped around the ceiling fan is what caused it to break. The question now is why there was a rope around it in the first place."

Standing up and looking around, Naomi shines the ALS into every nook and cranny of the room. A few minutes later, she still comes with with nothing, and in her frustration, the light bounces onto the doorknob.

A soft blue glow tells her that there's a reaction.

"This?" she whispers incredulously. "There's a reaction to blood on this screw that's securing the doorknob. The screw seems rather loose, as well. Come to think of it, the door to this room was chained shut when the fire started. Could this be related to that in some way?"

Finally feeling that she has enough information, Naomi heads back to the office, confident that she has all there is to get from the crime scene. She begins by giving Little Guy homework, as she has been doing forever.

"What's this?" he asks, when Naomi shows him the chained door. "It just looks like a loose screw to me."

"Think harder, Little Guy," says Naomi exasperatedly. "How was the room when the firefighters arrived at the scene? The entrance was closed, but was it completely unaccessible? The door the Dennis's room was locked only by the chain; the chain on the door had been attached, but the door itself wasn't locked."

"Um, sorry, but... the door only opens about 15 centimeters with the chain attached. I don't even think a small child could get through a space that small."

"You're so unimaginative," Naomi scolds. "Flex your mind and think about it. What I'm trying to tell you is that this loose screw tells us everything. With the screw removed, the entire plate on the door can be swivelled around by the doorknob. The plate itself is about 20 centimeters long, so the gap increases to almost 35 centimeters. How big does somebody have to be so that he couldn't fit through a space that size?"

"I see now," says Little Guy slowly. "That's more than enough room to get past the door. So the killer just screwed the plate back on from the outside after he left the room, then?"

"I think that's the most likely explanation," says Naomi. "But the killer was in plain sight once he was outside the door. He wanted to finish quickly. He couldn't completely tighten the screw, and left the area as we found it."

"Well, that proves that this isn't quite the locked-room mystery we thought it was," Little Guy chuckles nervously.

"Still, this doesn't help us figure out who the killer is," says Naomi pessimistically. "I need to investigate the situation in more detail."

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima, we've identified the blood on the screw," says Little Guy moments later. "It's a DNA match with the victim, Dennis Taylor. Why would his blood be there, of all places?"

"It's simple," says Naomi arrogantly. "It's probably because it touched the murder weapon."

"Wait," Little Guy interrupts. "Why would the killer touch that screw with the murder weapon?"

"He would have to, if the weapon was a screwdriver. It was likely used to both loosen and tighten that screw."

"Then the screwdriver left the blood on the screw while he was covering his tracks," Little Guy realizes.

_Screwdriver. _Naomi frowns at the shape of it, and her eyes widen as she doubles back to a piece of information forgotten a long time ago: the flower-shaped bruise. "I didn't notice because the bleeding had stopped completely, but this isn't a bruise... it's a stab wound. The distinctive bruise on the corpse's abdomen is from the screwdriver's handle! It's indisputable evidence that the weapon was jammed in so deeply that the grip left a bruise."

This can be pieced with another clue, as well, also long forgotten: the signs of asphyxiation from Dennis's eyes. "Looking at the location of the bruise, the tip of the screwdriver must have pierced Dennis's lung. His lung would then rupture, causing pulmonary emphysema, and he would have suffocated. This explains the spots of hemorrhaging in the corpse's eyes... what actually happened that day is slowly coming to light now...

"On the day of the incident, the killer came to the victim's room and stabbed him in the torso. The murder weapon was a screwdriver, and it pierced the victim's lung, causing pulmonary emphysema. This caused respiratory problems due to lung failure, and thus, the cause of death was asphyxiation. After this, the killer moved the victim to the bed. The murderer then arranged the corpse to make the death appear to be a suicide. That is what I believe took place, according to the evidence we have gathered."

That only leaves the mystery of how the fire started, and then Naomi's job here is done.

Feeling that she should still check the personal effects for clothing damage, Naomi does so, and realizes what's wrong from what she sees, or more accurately, what she _doesn't _see. "This is odd; there's something missing that should be here. If the puncture wound in the abdomen is the true cause of death, then there should be bloodstains and a hole where the screwdriver went through his clothing... this can tell us something.

"According to Mr. Taylor's friend, on the day of the incident Dennis had been wearing a red Portland Jacks T-shirt that day. But when his body was discovered, it was wearing a white shirt. In other words, his clothing had changed. And yet, if that was all we know, we couldn't rule out if the deceased had changed his shirt himself. However, if he had, there would still be a discrepancy. The white shirt the corpse wore doesn't fit the facts because that wasn't reflected by the status of the clothing it was wearing. There's only one answer to this puzzle, and that is that whoever had killed Mr. Taylor replaced the shirt he was wearing after killing him. The reason for doing that was to make it look like suicide. It was to hide the stab wound and make us believe the cut wrist was the cause of death. The killer staged the suicide in order to mislead us."

That isn't it, and there's further proof of the killer changing Dennis. "There are no vital reactions to the broken finger. That means the damage occurred after death. Considering that the killer must have changed the victim's clothing after death, it was broken while changing."

That solves everything, except for the sole topic that Naomi has hunted for so long: the fire. "It began near the fallen table. Calcium hydroxide was found in the substance on the floor there, and it's formed through the reaction of quicklime and water. That reaction creates something else, as well: heat. Quicklime releases 65 kJ of energy per mole when it reacts with water. This was the method used to start the fire in this room. First, you would place a glass of water on the table, and then put quicklime around the floor and on the table near the glass. When the table falls over, the hydration heat caused by the reaction would cause a fire. But... why would the killer go through such a complicated plan to start a fire?"

Naomi answers her own question: _to delay when the fire started. _"If all he wanted was a fire, he could have just set something alight. The killer needed to have a delay until the fire began. That's why he devised a plan that made use of two components: the ceiling fan and rope. The killer wrapped one end of the rope around the fan, and tied the other to a table leg. When the fan activated according to its timer, the fan wound the rope up, flipping the table over and spilling the water onto the quicklime! However, there's still one basic question left to be asked... why did the killer have to set the room on fire in the first place? Why go through his extravagant setup to make it happen?"

As usual, the answer comes to Naomi's mind immediately: "Due to the fact that there was nothing flammable added to the body itself, the culprit never intended for the corpse and the evidence to be destroyed in the fire. Instead, the killer wanted to cause a commotion that would draw attention to the corpse, to create an alibi. The plan was to have enough time to create a viable alibi for when the fire began. It's easy... I mean, with this method of misdirection, the culprit could start a fire hours after having left the crime scene entirely.

"_This is the entire truth behind this mysterious arson."_

At this point, almost on cue, Little Guy's voice emits out of the speakers. "Dr. Kimishima, how's the investigation going?"

"I've almost uncovered the deception, but the truth hasn't completely been revealed," says Naomi.

"So we can't arrest the culprit yet," says Little Guy dully.

"That's right," says Naomi. "I need conclusive evidence that can help us identify the killer."

"The most reliable giveaway would be if we could find a fingerprint at the crime scene," says Little Guy. "However, only the victim's fingerprints were found when HQ searched the room."

"I'm not surprised," Naomi sighs. "Considering the lengths the killer's gone to hide his tracks. The murderer was probably wearing gloves while the crime was being committed."

"Isn't there anything the killer might have touched?" Little Guy questions.

"Something that would require him to take his gloves off?" Naomi repeats. "It's hard to think of anything."

"Well, the best evidence would be on a hard, slick, inorganic substance," Little Guy offers. "It doesn't matter what size it is."

"All we can investigate are the crime scene, the corpse, and what the corpse was wearing," Naomi mutters exasperatedly. "Could there be anything among those items that the killer touched with a bare hand?"

Ditching Little Guy in the middle of their conversation, Naomi moves onto the examination room, determined to end this case once and for all. _I can't give up now... not when the truth is so close!_

Naomi knows that there won't be any fingerprints at the crime scene because the FBI had already checked, and obviously not on the corpse. That leaves the personal effects...

"The killer put this shirt on the victim's corpse after the murder took place," Naomi mumbles, inspecting the white cotton button-on shirt. "That would mean that the killer would have had to button the shirt up as well... Buttoning up a shirt with gloves on is no easy task, and if my predictions are correct..." Naomi heads back to her office with her story.

"The buttons on the victim's clothes, huh?" Little Guy laughs after Naomi had explained it. "I'll look into them right away! One moment, please!"

"Hopefully, this will help us find the identify of our mystery murderer," Naomi sighs in relief.

"Dr. Kimishima!" Little Guy cries. "It was there, I found it! There's a fingerprint from someone who isn't the victim! It's a... a right thumb!"

"Great," says Naomi happily, but with the same authority she has used for several years. "Run the print through the list of registered offenders immediately!"

"Such an attention to detail has gone into this," Little Guy mutters as he works. "It can't possibly be a first-time offender. There has to be a match for this fingerprint in our records!"

"I sincerely hope so," Naomi agrees heartily. "This case should be over soon."

* * *

"_The dead shall speak."_

Little Guy and his crew are still investigating the fingerprint, and Naomi has slithered away from the din to join the corpse, asleep forever. The woman standing right in front of the corpse could very well be the borderline and the messenger between life and death, or as people call it, the Corpse Whisperer. Her name is known throughout the country, but that doesn't mean that she has to lack in her conversations with the dead.

"_Let's put together the truth of what happened here," _Naomi continues in her ominous tone...

_The victim in this case is 30-year-old Dennis Taylor. As there's no motive for murder, it's a suspected suicide. However, the victim had a hidden other side, and while he did work at the bar, he also dealt drugs. This case is related to the victim's drug activities, because the drugs hidden behind the shelf were missing._

The drugs. Hidden from daylight for so long, behind the heavy shelf that obscured them from outside invaders, but the murderer had found it...

_The killer went into Taylor's room to kill him... for his drugs. The real cause of the victim's death can tell us that, for the wound on the wrist was not the true cause. The killer disguised the murder as a suicide. The appearance of suicide covered up the real cause. _

Dennis Taylor, his body already frozen stiff from rigor mortis, the shadow of the killer lifting the corpse to its bed.

_The next topic is the secret hidden in the room itself. The murderer used a trick to create a locked-room mystery. It was made to seem as if the victim was the only one there, and the killer thought this would clear his trail._

The killer, setting up the fan, the rope, the water, the quicklime... escaping through the door, and screwing the screw in... and the door slips closed.

_And yet, the culprit had one more way to hide from suspicion. That was to hide when the murder itself took place, which happened three hours prior to the fire's start. It's natural to assume that if the room was locked, then the crime and the fire would be at the same time. The plan was perfect. No fingerprints were left in the room. However, there was one thing the killer hadn't counted on, for there was one task he needed to remove his gloves to do: he probably couldn't button the clothes with his gloves on. No matter how small the buttons, there were still prints. Even a fragment of a fingerprint can be used to identify him._

The killer, carefully taking his gloves off, and avoiding brushing his fingers along anything else, slowly buttons the shirt and quickly putting the gloves back on, hoping that no one would bother checking the fingerprints on the jacket... but Naomi did.

_The victim must've been surprised. After all, he thought the killer was a customer... This is what he said at the very end..._

"S-Stop! You...! NO!" Dennis Taylor's last words cry just before the murderer stabs him with the screwdriver... the electrician.

_The final flickers of this soul's light show me the truth._

Naomi slowly withdraws from her own world but is suddenly jerked awake by a sudden clanging of a door slamming shut. Frightened and knowing that Little Guy or any of his crew wouldn't dare enter without knocking (they've had bad experiences before), Naomi turns around, feeling the first thuds of fright taking place.

"Who's there?" she demands. Much to her surprise and it only sets terror alight once more, the orange suit of the electrician throws the door to the examination room open and storms in.

"I'm sorry, I must've surprised you," he smirks.

"You're that electrician," says Naomi gingerly, taking this in her evasive, sly way. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, I was called up because a switchboard blew," he says quietly. "I need to have it fixed by tomorrow."

"I see," says Naomi slowly. "That sounds difficult."

Her icy blue eyes slide over to a gun sitting on a bench, bullets already jammed in. She feels her muscles tense; _the electrician can't know that I have already figured out who is the murderer... _And Naomi sees a screwdriver clutched in his heavily muscled grasp.

_Three... two... one... _the countdown seems to be shared in unison by the two, glowering in each other's faces. _Zero. _Naomi dives to the side as the electrician runs up and attempts to stab her with the screwdriver.

He misses, and Naomi grabs the gun, takes aim briefly, and fires. The electrician falls to the floor with a grunt, blood trickling from where the bullet had hit him: the left leg. Naomi strides up to him, gun cocked and ready, towering over the fallen murderer.

"Freeze," she says coldly. "Don't move. I see corpses all day; one more won't bother me."

* * *

Night has fallen, and the coldness of it all seems to lurch over Portland as a moonless night rises. Naomi Kimishima strides through the gates of CIFM, heading home. The recent encounter with a murderer had left her heart still beating shakily, but she has managed to stay alive after all these years...

"Naomi!" The sudden cry of Chief Wayne's voice has Naomi turn around as the giant, dark man runs forwards. "Are you hurt? I'm sorry, I should've stayed..."

"I've solved the case," she says airily. "I'll give you my report tomorrow."

"The report can wait," he says gravely. "Naomi, You must think of your safety."

"Nobody lives forever," she mutters darkly, eyes closed, thinking back to her days being the patient instead of the doctor. "Even if I died today, it'd just be earlier than I expected."

She swings on her heels and walks off, leaving Chief David Wayne alone in the darkness, astounded by her last words.

* * *

*screams* I'M FINALLY DONE LOCKED-ROOM MYSTERY! Ugh. Sorry, after several weeks of inactivity, this is what was planned to have happened:

mockingjayfire writes Locked-Room Mystery, Behind the Lies, and Seeking Atonement.

fighterkirby writes Wandering Girl, Crime of Passion, and Journey's End.

So fighterkirby finished Wandering Girl within a week. mockingjayfire barely started, and then after her deadline, she told me to do it instead. :) So fighterkirby's here, finished ANOTHER massive chapter (9,027 words) and... yeah. Good news, though. Another 10000+ word chapter (Wandering Girl) is coming right up.

Don't you DARE blame mf, though, or fighterkirby stabs you with a Rosalia's GUILT-infested screwdriver. It makes you addicted to OSTs and you get the Rosalia Virus plus GUILT. *freaky smile*

The next chapter in the chronological version is "32. Tomoe: II: Moment of Zen".


	39. Naomi: II: Wandering Girl

**CHAPTER TWO  
**_Wandering Girl_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Ugh…"

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

The phone somehow has an irresistible urge to it, pulling Naomi closer to it, against her will. Her eyes squeeze shut as she tries to fight it, but eventually, snatches the phone from its cradle.

"Dr. Kimishima, the corpse is already here. Are you done?" Little Guy's familiar voice echoes in the phone.

"Calm down, Little Guy," Naomi sighs. "I said I'd leave in ten minutes. It's only been seven."

"Yes, but Headquarters is telling me to hurry," says Little Guy nervously.

"All right, I'll be right there," Naomi groans. "Goodbye."

"Oh!" Little Guy suddenly cries, "Doctor, wait!"

Too late; the busy dial tone is already ringing in Little Guy's ears.

He groans, snapping his mobile shut, and spending the remainder of his waiting time fiddling with his thumbs, solving the crossword in today's dispatch, and covering his head with his hands.

Naomi, in the meanwhile, is having a more entertaining morning. The moment she steps out of her house, a small, young girl steps in her path, holding a smaller, black kitten.

"You shouldn't be allowed here," says Naomi coldly. "Do you need something?"

"Kitty doesn't seem well," says the girl sullenly. Her big green eyes shine pleadingly in Naomi's direction, and her short brown hair falls loose over her shoulders. She doesn't seem to have the same intimidation Maria Torres gives off, though their features are similar, but leans towards the sweet side instead. "Can you fix her, please?"

And the cat gives a gentle _meow._

"A cat?" Naomi asks skeptically. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because… because you're a doctor, Miss…"

"I…" Naomi closes her eyes softly. _It's alright. I still have two minutes left from Little Guy's time limit. This shouldn't take long. _"Hand it over."

The girl gives the cat to Naomi, who takes it by the scruff of its neck, and prodding its throat gently. "Looks like she swallowed something. She'll be fine."

"Really?" the girl asks brightly, a smile illuminating her face.

"It's common for cats to swallow foreign objects," says Naomi. "Still… wait here for a moment."

"Okay!" says the girl brightly. "Thank you, Miss!"

A few minutes later, Naomi is really regretting it.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late," Naomi calls, walking into the room. "Is everything ready?"

"D-Doctor Kimishima, you're really late!" Little Guy cries, choking on his own breath. "You… huh?"

His gaze falls on Naomi's hand, which he does a lot, but this time, it's at the distinctive three red scratches on there, the past oozes of blood swept away, leaving only a faint red splotch.

"What're you looking at?" Naomi asks shortly, although she knows and Little Guy knows but neither is willing to tell.

"Oh, uh, what happened to your hands?" Little Guy asks, deciding that it's better to not anger Naomi… especially at a time like this.

"A cat did it."

Surprise sweeps through Little Guy like sunlight flooding onto the earth through dawn. "A cat? I never figured you for a cat person."

"Be quiet," Naomi snaps. "I thought you were in a rush here. Are we ready?"

"Huh?" Little Guy asks quickly, and then regains his senses. "Oh, right! I'll get ready now!"

And Naomi gets her own things ready: pulling out her slim black cell phone, clutching it in her hands, as an aura of purple surrounds it and evaporates into the air above. She slowly raises it to her ear dramatically, flipping it open as she goes, and listens tight.

"_It hurts! Mom, Dad, h-help me!"_

"I see," Naomi whispers, snapping the phone shut, musing about the dead's last words. This is no normal death, a painless one that an old man may suffer. This victim died in pain. "So you were cut short too… all right. I'll reel in the thread of truth."

* * *

"Explain the situation to me one more time, Little Guy," Naomi orders.

"Right, right," comes Little Guy's hasty voice, eager to please the impatient doctor. "A skeletonized corpse was found in a river fifty kilometers out of the city. We don't know who it is, but evidence suggests it's female. A homeless man out walking his dog reported finding it. The preliminary cause of death is being ruled as a drowning."

"Like you said, the body is completely skeletonized. We won't be able to ID her until we reform her skeleton."

"I also have the records from the questioning of the body's finder," Little Guy offers.

"I'm impressed," says Naomi, raising an eyebrow. "For you, that's a brilliant move."

"Please, that's not much of a compliment," Little Guy sighs, though his cheeks redden slightly. "I'll leave the recorder here. Check it when you need to."

"Good. Let's begin… show me how your life's thread was severed!"

Naomi ignores the recordings, though, and heads on to the skeleton. That's often a primary way of discovering how one's life was cut short.

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima, can you hear me?" Little Guy's voice suddenly crackles in Naomi's ears, and while it may make other people jumpy, especially around a corpse, but for the forensics researcher herself, it's no big deal.

"Yes, I can hear you. Why are you calling me on the intercom?"

"Oh, um, well… it's about the corpse," Little Guy admits.

"I do have the corpse here, in a bag," Naomi tells him irritably. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Sorry," his sorry voice apologizes. "That was the most reliable way to get it to you. The skeleton had fallen apart, so I had them transport it like this."

"I see," says Naomi. "So what am I supposed to do with it?"

"Please put it back together," is Little Guy's voice, and extremely irked, Naomi proceeds to piece the skull together.

_Great. Leave all the work to me, _she thinks, and her opinion of Little Guy drops even lower. _Jerk._

The front, right, left, and back sides of the skull are quickly completed, and Naomi sets it down.

"Whew, it's done. Let's take a look," Naomi sighs, inspecting it. "Hmm… looking at this skull, I'd place the victim's age in the early twenties. That's rather young… the bone structure suggests a high probability that the victim is female. I might find something out if I have the FBI analyze it in detail."

As if on cue, Little Guy's voice crackles from the speakers, layered with static. "How's it going over there, Dr. Kimishima? I'm done with the body here."

"Great timing," says Naomi. "I just finished myself."

"All right, I'll put the skull back with the rest of the skeleton," says Little Guy.

"Once that's done, let's begin investigating the corpse."

A few minutes later, the assembled corpse is right in front of Naomi's eyes, and she inspects it, closely. But still, a five-year-old can see the problems with the skeleton.

"This… the femurs of both legs have been fractured," she notices. "The femur is the hardest bone in the human body. It would've taken a massive amount of power to break both of them at once…"

She keeps on going, talking to herself as she goes, making note of every detail in her photographic memory. "The little finger appears to be fractured here," she notes, glancing at the right hand. "What could have caused this bone to break?"

However, that question soon evaporates into an unanswered question floating around in Naomi's mind when she sees the victim's right arm. "What's this? The bone's… _discolored? _I've never seen anything like this before… I'll need a more detailed look at it." The bone isn't white… it's black… and almost transparent.

Figuring that she has all the important data for the skeleton, she moves on to the clothes the victim had been wearing the day she died. Jeans, a pink shirt, a necklace… but…

"These are tire marks," Naomi breathes, looking at the tracks of dirt running diagonally across the back of the pants. "So was the victim run over by a car…? That doesn't make sense, though, because the victim was found at a river… There may be some exceptions, but you usually don't find cars driving in the river."

Leaving that as a question for later, Naomi moves on to the pink T-shirt… though half of the front side is red. But the red isn't deliberate, a work of the stylists and manufacturers. No…

"This… it's a bloodstain," Naomi gasps. "However, it doesn't appear to have originated from a hemorrhaging injury. If this blood were from external injuries, then the clothing would be damaged as well. The clothes have no such marks… could she have been hemorrhaging from some other reason?"

Another question to be resolved for later.

"This is the necklace the victim was wearing," says Naomi, moving on to a turquoise gem dangling from a string. "Is this stone agate? It's shattered in half… how much force would it take for this stone to break like this? In any case, this is unusual for a corpse that supposedly drowned in the river."

Mysteries, mysteries, all of them floating out in space, waiting for someone to answer them. That's Naomi's job, and she takes it very seriously, heading for her computer to sort out all the data and form evidence, if necessary.

The communication service on the computer is very handy, indeed. "Hey, Little Guy. Can you do me a favor and get a bone analysis?" she asks, showing him the pictures of the assumed female skeleton.

"Yes, of course," says Little Guy eagerly. "Is it to identify the body?"

"Mm-hmm," Naomi smiles. "That's right. Start with dental records."

"I'll get right on that," says Little Guy "I'll let you know when the results come in. Oh, and Dr. Kimishima, good timing. There's something I need to tell you."

"I'm listening," says Naomi. "What is it?"

"The team that collected the corpse has turned in an investigation report. It seems that a type of tick was found in the ground where the corpse was located."

"Ticks?" Naomi asks, incredulous.

"Yes. Depending on the season and environment, various insects are attracted to corpses. They normally leave once the body's been reduced to the bone… but some ticks burrow underground and remain there for a while afterwards.

"Hmm… true," Naomi agrees. "They'll leave eventually as well, but… perhaps the ticks could tell us something. We could use the ticks to determine how long the corpse had been there."

"Amazing, Doctor," comes Little Guy's hushed voice. "I didn't think you'd know about that."

"So, was a time of death calculated?" Naomi asks almost arrogantly, and from the other line, Little Guy almost cowers from the intimidation in her voice, as if forgetting momentarily that Naomi is somewhere else and can't bite his head of.

"Yes," says Little Guy, trying to recover. "It seems to have only been about a month ago. That's not too long, biologically speaking."

"A month," Naomi breathes sharply. "True, that is rather fast for a corpse to have been skeletonized… all right, thank you, Little Guy."

Her assistant stops talking, and heads on to the work Naomi had given to him. The doctor herself proceeds to match various pieces of data to solid evidence…

"The fractures on both legs match the locations of the tire marks left on the clothing," says Naomi, comparing the pictures of each. "That means these fractures in the legs appeared when she was run over by a car. How, then, did these marks appear on a corpse found in the river? This is a new mystery…"

Mystery indeed… Naomi sighs, and settles back in her chair, grabbing the recorder. Better to spend her time thinking about something else until she has enough evidence. For now… just listen to the testimony. Why not?

"_Hehe… hey! Can you see if they'll get me some of that Mooper's Chicken, huh?" _John Doe, the man who found the corpse, gives the first lines of his testimony a very strange beginning. _"All this juicy fat drips out when you take a bite… Mmm-MMM! Tasty! Ahehehehehe… Huh? Sam ain't just a dog! He's my best friend in the whole world, aheheh… Don't be stupid! You wanna know how I found that body? It's all thanks to Sam, y'know? Aheheh… Yeaaah, we were walking down by the river when old Sam, he suddenly runs off! And he comes back with a bone in his mouth! I took a better look, and damn if it ain't a lady's arm! Scared the hell outta me, y'know? So I went and called the cops. Huh? I ain't going near no dead body! That's just creepy, aheheh! Oh, hey, if she was missing, was there any reward for finding her? I mean, hehe… dead or alive, right? Aheheheheheh!"_

Finishing the testimony, Naomi's two conclusions are: one, this guy has a creepy laugh. Two…

"Little Guy, that man who found the corpse might be telling us one hell of a lie."

"What do you mean?" Little Guy asks, feeling very dumb.

"In his testimony, he claims that he never saw the corpse, correct?" Naomi asks.

"Yes…"

"Yet, there is something he said that he couldn't have known unless he had seen the corpse previously."

"Huh? There was?" Shocked, Little Guy has to scrabble to get his emotions back in place. "Wait, what was it?"

Naomi gives a huge groan of impatience and exasperation, mixed together in a solution that Little Guy flinches at. "Do I really have to point it out to you?"

"Yes, please!"

Naomi rewinds the recorder, playing the recording: _"And he comes back with a bone in his mouth! I took a better look, and damn if it ain't a lady's arm!"_

"He said that his dog had brought back an arm bone," says Naomi irritably. "Even for a forensic scientist, it would be difficult to determine the sex from just that. That means the man who found the corpse must've seen it in person. He then made an assumption of the corpse's gender based on the remaining articles of clothing."

Stupefied by Naomi's sheer wisdom, Little Guy shrinks back to do his homework.

Naomi doesn't let him.

"All right, Little Guy," she interrupts. "Let's look at the information in detail."

"Sure, but why would he lie?" Little Guy asks, trying not to sound too dumb.

"A good question," says Naomi. "Here's one possible explanation: he didn't want the authorities to know that he had been at the scene."

"But it's not a crime to discover a dead body," Little Guy argues. "Why would he try to hide that?"

"The most likely reason why he didn't want it to be known is because he tampered with the scene."

A brief moment of silence as Little Guy tries to recover from this new fact, and then Naomi keeps on talking.

"It's likely that he did something that would get him in trouble if it was discovered," she continues.

"I see," says Little Guy, finally. "That would explain his behavior!"

"The question is, what did he do? Little Guy? Go interrogate him once more."

"Trust me, I'll make sure he doesn't hold back anything from me this time," he mutters darkly.

Naomi changes the subject abruptly. "Hey, Little Guy. I'd like to get your opinion on something."

"Huh? Me?" Little Guy stammers, turning beet red. "I didn't think you'd ever ask me to–"

"Enough chitchat," says Naomi briskly, cutting his ramble short. "I'm transferring some data to you."

"Oh, O-okay," says Little Guy. "What is this?"

The data Naomi had given Little Guy is the picture of the discolored bone on the girl's right arm, close to the shoulder. It takes Little Guy a while to realize that.

"Uh, can you wait a moment?" Little Guy asks. "I'll compare it with the database here."

Naomi waits patiently, fiddling with her thumbs and playing restlessly with her cell phone (the regular one, not the voodoo hotline).

"It's as I thought…" Little Guy's depressive voice comes over the speakers. "No matches. I've never seen this before, not even at… the place I used to work."

The name is on both agents' minds: _Delphi. _The secret organization that had come together a few years back with one definitive goal: wipe out humanity for the greater good. They even created a virus, GUILT, or Gangliated Utrophin Immuno Latency Toxin, to murder and destroy billions of people. Seven highly contagious and dangerous strains, Naomi's good friend Derek Stiles had nearly been killed by two of those strains before: Kyriaki and Paraskevi… for the type of research needed to create viruses that severe, and not even a simple discoloration would've occurred while testing the disease?

"So does that mean you don't know the first thing about it?" Naomi asks cautiously.

"I'm sorry, but that's correct," Little Guy sighs.

"Fine," Naomi scowls. "At least I know now that there isn't any information. And… that's also all the information that we can obtain from the corpse and other articles up to this point."

"So, Dr. Kimishima? Is the cause of death drowning, after all?"

"No," says Naomi immediately. "There's a good possibility that the cause of death was something else. The damage to the skeleton is too severe for drowning to have been the cause. Her skull itself was completely shattered. Even if animals had damaged the bones, they wouldn't have done that. Her skull was shattered by an extremely strong impact of some sort."

"A strong impact to the head…" Little Guy thinks it over. "That isn't consistent with a drowning."

Exasperation settles over the silver-haired doctor. "There's more to it than that, though. The femur is supposed to be the most durable bone in the human skeletal system. However, both her femurs were completely fractured. This also suggests that some kind of powerful impact had occurred."

"I see," says Little Guy. "Also, in the area where the corpse had been found… the water level was low, and there are no waterfalls, rapids, or records of floods. There's nothing in the river itself that would cause such damage to the corpse…"

"Yes," Naomi agrees, "But that's all we know for now. It's risky for us to assume anything beyond that. Little Guy, get approval from HQ. I'm heading out to the actual location."

"Wait, are you going down to the river?" Little Guy gasps, left in an unbelievable shock by Naomi's absurd statement.

"No," says Naomi shortly. "She didn't die in the river. The evidence we have suggests that the actual place of death was…" She holds up a map in front of the webcam, jabbing a spot on it: a highway road and a river crashing through below it, and one of its tributaries leads right to the place where the corpse was found. "This location is the most likely place."

"Understood," Little Guy sighs, outwitted by Naomi Kimishima again. "I'll make arrangements for us to go right away."

"Yes, please do so," says Naomi. "Now… let's head out."

* * *

A river, bordering a small mountain to its left, running in a circle around it. The blue water, calm and peaceful, hasn't been contaminated with the oil and exhaust expelled from the cars thundering across the bridge that hangs over its gleaming waters. On its shores and jagged banks sit trees, hundreds and thousands of them, one of the few places left in the world that hasn't been disturbed by mankind. The only sigh of civilization is the highway that runs above the river.

But the signs of beauty are still disturbed by skid marks lining the gravel on the bridge, going from one lane to the other. And where it stops, the railing is bent outwards, bulging into the nature below.

"What's this?" Naomi asks worriedly. "Long skid marks and signs of a collision… it's apparent that a car accident happened here."

Her eyes, so sharp and blazing, notices a gleam on the road, reflecting off the soft sunlight coming from above. The few cars that had crossed this road in the past hadn't thought it was special enough, but for Naomi, anything out of the ordinary is worth looking at.

"This piece of stone isn't in a natural shape," she breathes. "Somebody had to work on this. I feel like I've seen something similar recently."

And suddenly, she remembers. The jagged, cracked necklace from before, on that corpse… she backs away from the scene, and orders Little Guy to take her back to the facility immediately.

She runs, leaving Little Guy in the dust as he shakes his head in frustration. But Naomi doesn't care about that, and only takes the piece of stone from the scene and putting it against the one the corpse had been wearing…

"That's correct," she whispers in amazement. "The two shards fit perfectly. That clears something up for us now; the victim was on the bridge where the accident occurred… there's no conclusive evidence of how she died yet, but this may be a clue."

She then takes the photo of the collision and shoves it in Little Guy's face (or at least, his face in the webcam). "Little Guy, does this information tell us anything?"

"Uh, give me a moment," says Little Guy. "Let's see here… blue paint thought to have come from a vehicle was found on the area of the collision along the guardrail. We're investigating what kind of vehicle it's from, but that could take some time."

"Hmm… so this means that a blue vehicle ran into the guardrail here. Any other details?"

"Well, we can use the skid marks to determine how many tires the vehicle had," Little Guy offers. "Um, it seems this vehicle had two wheels on the front axle. Behind that, there were two more axles, both with two tires on each side."

"That means there were ten tires," says Naomi, doing the math quickly. "Judging from the number and positions of the tires, it must be a truck! The pairs of tires are for dispersing the weight of the load it's carrying. Thus, this vehicle is designed for transporting heavy shipments."

"I see," says Little Guy. "I'll get in touch with the investigators about this."

"Please do," says Naomi. "Hopefully, they can use this to find other things."

She turns back to the evidence.

"There's no doubt that the victim had been run over in this case," she mutters to herself. "If the victim had been killed in this accident… the victim died about a month ago. If the victim did die from the accident, the accident itself would have taken place a month ago, as well."

She puzzles over the tire marks and the skid marks. "Yes, there's evidence that the victim had been on the bridge when the accident took place. There's evidence of having been in a car accident on the victim's body and clothing. That evidence… the skid marks and tire marks. That's right, taking these two facts into account… it's quite likely that the victim was in an accident at that place."

Little Guy's urgent voice interrupts Naomi's train of thoughts.

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima. We've identified who the body was."

"Great," says Naomi. "Was there a hit in the dental records?"

"That's right," says Little Guy, and he sends over a picture of the victim: a young woman with flowing brown hair that tumbles in waves down to her chest, wearing the same pink T-shirt she had died in. The familiar necklace hangs loosely from her neck. Her eyes are pale blue… just like Naomi's. In the picture, she's smiling, and so full of life… so much unlike the remains of the skeleton that she is now, alone in the world. "The victim here is Veronica Cage. She was twenty-three years old. It seems she was living with her parents eight kilometers from where the accident took place."

"I see," says Naomi happily. "We're making progress. Has the family been notified?"

"Yes, that's been done," says Little Guy. "There was something odd about it, though…"

"What's that?" Naomi asks.

"The parents hadn't submitted a missing persons report," Little Guy answers. "Even though their daughter had been gone for a month."

"You must've had a happy childhood, Little Guy," Naomi mutters bitterly. "Every family has its own problems."

"We questioned them, just in case," says Little Guy, eager to stray away from childhood talk. "The interviews were recorded. If you need to listen to them, check the voice recorder."

"All right, anything else?"

"Oh, one more thing. About the man who discovered the body… like you thought, it looks like he'd tampered with the crime scene. We interrogated him again, and he's currently being detained. You can use the recorder to listen to that interview as well."

"Alright," says Naomi. "I want to know what he'd been doing there."

"_Ugh… I mean… Aheheh… S-Sorry…" _John Doe's stammer comes out of the recorder. _"I was… just looking' 'round for anything I might be able to sell… An' then, we found that woman's… well… bones near the riverbed. Sam was leading the way, an' we found that dead body. Huh? Hell, I saw the underwear! I mean, it's not that hard to tell the difference! Yeah, the necklace was cracked, so I took the earring. I looked around for a while, but I only found one of 'em. An' who's gonna buy one earring? I can't even sell it. Yeah, you can have it, worthless junk!"_

"What a coward," Naomi spits in disgust. "I see… I understand now. He claimed that he hadn't seen the corpse to hide the fact that he stole one of her earrings. This man deserves a severe punishment. I should tell Little Guy about it."

But for now, Naomi keeps on going with the rest of the recordings: Veronica Cage's father and mother.

"_I hate to say this when I know you're doing your best to help…" _says Veronica's father, "_But I've always known that something like this would happen to her one day. Yes, we expected it. That's why we didn't request a search or post a reward. I mean, sometimes a machine's just too broken to be repaired. Isn't that right? Hmm? What, this injury? I fell down while taking a walk."_

Naomi glances at the father's picture: a shadow just under his right eye. It's not from lack of sleep, or it would've been under both eyes. "That's not just a scratch or anything… seems like a pretty bad fall to me."

"_It's embarrassing," _the tape recorder continues to play, "_Getting old is misery. Anyway, we'd like to go home as soon as we can. My wife isn't in the best of health. I have a bad back, too. It hurts more and more the longer I sit here."_

Naomi stops the recording and goes on to Alice Cage, the mother. She observes her picture carefully; she shows no hint of old age, unlike the father. Her light brown, auburn hair is shut short to just above the neck, but she bears injuries, also…

"_Y-Yes, I'm all right… I… I suppose that I'd been expecting this to happen one day. My daughter… she was a kind girl. But ever since she dropped out of high school… well… she lost most of her friends, and was practically alone in the world. At some point, she started going out almost every night. Sometimes she didn't come home for an entire month… we thought that's what happened this time, too. Oh, this? I… slipped on the stairs. Yes, my husband and I are both… getting rather old."_

"It seems that the victim's relationship with her family wasn't going well," Naomi sighs, finishing all three testimonies.

"Dropping out of high school, going out every night…" Little Guy adds, "Sounds like a typical delinquent."

"That's not the best way to describe it," Naomi admonishes, "But I can't say she was well-behaved."

"Yeah," says Little Guy. "Did the parents' testimonies tell you anything else?"

"There's something that bored me more than just what they said," Naomi admits. "What caught my attention about the father was…" Like the time with the map, Naomi shows Little Guy the photo of the father's face, pointing at the shadow under his right eye, which is hanging rather limply. "It wasn't major, but there was some injury to his face. And in the mother's testimony, my attention was caught by…" she points at the shadow under Alice Cage's eye as well. "Yes, she had some signs of severe bruising as well."

"But they both said that they'd gotten hurt by falling down," Little Guy protests meekly.

"You're not paying attention," Naomi scowls. "Take a closer look at both of them. They both have multiple injuries, but each injury in a different state of healing. This means that they were hurt repeatedly. How many people do you know fall down several times a week?"

"I see," Little Guy sighs, bested by Naomi again. "You have a point there. Then, why were these two…?" The eerie silence finishes Little Guy's sentence: _where did these injuries come from?_

"I don't know yet," Naomi admits. "But they must have a reason for hiding the cause of their injuries."

Taking a deep breath, Naomi adds this mystery to her to-do list, and looks back at the things discovered before, notably John Doe, the man who discovered Veronica's body. "It's more than that the person who had found the corpse stole something… there's one more important fact involved with this case. And that is… the victim is missing an earring. Yes, only one of the victim's earrings was at the scene. Either it came off somewhere, or she was only wearing one all along. Where could the other earring have gone?"

Naomi shakes off her frustration by leaving Little Guy more homework: examining the parents' injuries and medical history, and the events of death. He replies by handing in the work from before.

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima!" Little Guy cries. "We've identified the vehicle from the accident."

"Good," says Naomi. "That's rather quick, for you guys."

"Hey, come on!" Little Guy protests. "We're a national government agency! We'll have the recording from the driver's interview later. He pretty much admits to what we suspected had happened. So… case closed?"

"Easy there," Naomi stops him with her cold tone. "It's too early to relax yet."

"What do you mean?" Little Guy asks. "I mean, the culprit's…"

"Do you think that just catching the truck driver will solve this case?" Naomi asks him.

"Doesn't it?"

"A twenty-three-year old woman was walking alone in the mountains eight kilometers from home. You think she was just walking the dog?"

"Okay," Little Guy admits. "That does sound odd. So, the investigation's not over yet…"

"Indeed," says Naomi, and reminds him of his homework. "Go look into the parents' hospital records. From the size of those bruises, they would've needed to be treated at a hospital."

"Got it. What will you be doing, Dr. Kimishima?"

"I'm going to investigate the victim's house," says Naomi. "Keep the parents in custody until I'm done."

"Right," says Little Guy. "I'll tell the ones in charge right now."

* * *

Veronica Cage's room is nothing like Naomi expected, yet everything she expected. The walls are painted pink, with dressers and mirrors, drawers and tables. A couch sits next to a wall. The floorboards are clean, except for a pile of smashed glass sitting in a corner. A single window sits in a wall, casting a glow into the room. Even after years of forensics work, stepping into the dead's territory is still strange, as if invading their space…

"These pieces of glass seem to have come from a mirror," says Naomi. "Let's see…"

Her gaze moves to the dresser, where the mirror is covered with a blue cloth, which she quickly removes. "Ah. The mirror on the dresser's been broken. I wonder what happened to it…"

She sprays luminol over the cracked mirror, and then the glass on the ground. When the ALS is shined on it… "A reaction to the luminol? It seems there's something here that isn't part of the broken mirror…"

She removes the foreign objects with her gloved hands, and finds a metallic ring. "This! It's the same earring that the man who had found the body had stolen… all the shattered glass was neatly placed in one area. That means that someone had cleaned up the glass shards… they must have swept up the earring along with the glass. If that's the case… was the earring with the glass pieces when the mirror was broken? In any case, since it reacted with the spray… there must be blood on this earring. I'll need to have Little Guy analyze it and see if it tells us anything."

She leaves the pile of shards and rises to face the dresser that sits just to its right. On it is a package… "It's an ordinary package of breath mints," she says. "You can get them anywhere. Still…" She opens the package, and a few pills slide out. "Just as I thought. These aren't mints in here. These markings seem to indicate that this medication was produced for a pharmacy. I might be able to ask Little Guy to find out just what it is."

That leaves him with even more homework.

Naomi heads back to her office, leaving the scene behind. The moment she gets back, Little Guy announces, "Dr. Kimishima, we've received the interview with the truck driver from the accident."

"All right," says Naomi. "How did he seem?"

"It's easy to sympathize with him. Sounds like a case of wrong time, wrong place."

"I see," says Naomi. "All right, I'll check the recorder." _I need to pay careful attention to his account of what happened before and after the accident. What Veronica was doing prior to being hit… and what the driver did afterwards… That's what I should be sure to listen for._

The driver, a wide man with ash blonde hair, is grimacing in the picture. Charles Elkins, age 42, the man arrested for the Veronica Cage incident.

"_Wh-What do you want?" _His husky voice is frantic with worry. _"I didn't do anything! I-I don't know! A-A woman… that woman! I-It's… It's not my fault! I… I was… uh… supposed to drive a shipment to a nearby town! Dammit… they forced me to do it! Wh-Why the hell would someone be sleeping in the middle of a mountain road at midnight anyway? It's not my fault… it's not my fault! I-I turned a corner, and she was lying on the bridge…"_

"She was _sleeping _on the bridge?" Naomi frowns, the familiar lines of puzzlement appearing on her forehead. "This seems a little odd… if this man was telling the truth, then the victim had already collapsed there from the start. It doesn't seem like he was lying, but… what in the world does this mean?"

"_I slammed on the brakes, but… I wasn't fast enough… a-and I ran her over!" _the recording continues, and Elkins's voice is growing more and more fraught with nerves, almost as if he is crying. "_I-I got out of the truck to see, and… sh-she wasn't breathing… I-I panicked, and… I-I threw her off the bridge!"_

"He threw the victim's body over the bridge…" Naomi grimaces. "This means that the victim wasn't knocked off the bridge by being struck by a vehicle…"

She turns off the recorder and proceeds to getting some things off her to-do list (AKA giving Little Guy homework). "Hey, Little Guy, I need you to analyze this medication."

"Yes, of course," he says. "Did you find it in the victim's room?"

"That's right," says Naomi. "It looks like it's prescribed medication, but what is it?"

"Who knows?" Little Guy mutters, puzzling over the pills and toying with its chemical properties. "It's definitely no common over-the-counter drug. I'd suspect that this would have to be prescribed by a doctor before someone can buy it."

"I see," says Naomi. "That makes sense. This could mean that the victim had attended a hospital. Was the victim suffering from some kind of injury or disease? If our analysis continues, we may find something out… Ah, yes. Little Guy, I need you to analyze something else."

"Sure," Little Guy moans, looking up from the pills. "Send it over to me."

Naomi sends over the second earring found in Veronica Cage's room, the one that had reacted with the luminol, the one with blood on it.

"I see," says Little Guy. "There's blood on it. The DNA matches the victim, as well. Also, this metal fitting seems warped. Could it be worn out from use?"

"That doesn't seem to be the case," Naomi corrects. "Look again at the bloodstain."

"The bloodstain?"

"It's… not on the ornament," says Naomi. "It's on the needle part that goes through the ear. If there's blood there that matches the victim's, then the earring was ripped out of her ear."

"If that's the case… the damage to the fitting makes sense. But what could happen that would cause an earring to be torn off?"

"I don't know yet," Naomi shakes her head. "Still, there must be some connection to everything else here. I think this information may lead us to some more concrete evidence… The victim was discovered with only one of these earrings. And the other one was discovered in her room, with her blood on it. Normally, if someone had an earring torn off to the point that it caused bleeding… they would have to realize that something was wrong. Still, the victim was on a bridge eight kilometers away from her home… What this shows is that she was taken by force. She didn't leave this room by her own will. She was probably forced out of here by someone else. That could explain how one of the earrings was left in the room. But why would whoever abducted her leave her on a bridge, eight kilometers away? I feel like there's a lot of truth that remains to be uncovered."

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima," says Little Guy. "The results of the analysis on the corpse have come back."

"Good," says Naomi. "Did they find anything new?"

"It looks that way," says Little Guy. "The report indicates that the fractures to the femurs and skull were all posthumous injuries."

"So these wounds were inflicted _after _she died?" Naomi gasps.

"Yes, that's what the report says," Little Guy confirms.

This means that the truck driver isn't guilty of killing her after all… Naomi suddenly remembers the fractured little finger from the skeleton. "Can you do something for me, Little Guy? I need this bone analyzed in detail."

"Sure,' says Little Guy reluctantly. "What do you mean by _in detail, _though?"

"I just need to know if this fracture occurred before or after death," says Naomi.

"This must have happened while she was still alive," Little Guy shrugs. "Take a look at this area here. You can see where it started healing."

"Great," says Naomi. "I thought as much. All right, thank you. There's no knowing yet if this has anything to do with this case, but I do know now that this fractured occurred while she was still alive."

She sighs, and looks over the other pieces of evidence. "If I were to sum up the driver's account, prior to the accident, the victim had already been collapsed on the road. And after he ran her over, the driver threw the victim over the bridge. Little Guy, what's the FBI's opinion about this?"

"He's already admitted to killing her," says Little Guy. "Why would he lie about that?"

"Indeed," says Naomi. "His account coincides with the evidence I had found, as well."

"Huh? What evidence?"

"Well, if she had been standing when she was hit by the truck, the fractures to her bones would have indicated a strong impact from one certain direction. In this case, nothing of that sort was observed."

"I see. What about the shattered skull, then?"

"The skull fractures are consistent with a strong impact to the top of the head. It would be unnatural for it to have been due to a car accident. Considering what happened to the victim, it can be deduced that something else caused that fracture. If she was unconscious when she fell from the bridge, the fracture due to an impact to the top of the skull is understandable."

"You're right, that does make more sense," Little Guy praises.

"However, that raises more questions about the victim herself," Naomi cuts in, not willing to be flattered. Why in the world was this woman so far from home? And why would she be lying in the middle of a bridge, in the mountains, at that time of night?"

"That's a valid point," Little Guy grunts. "I guess there are still some mysteries left unsolved here."

"Indeed."

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima, we were able to look into the parents' injuries."

"Good job," says Naomi. "What did you find?"

"There were records that the parents had been going to a hospital, like you said. Let's see… it looks like they'd started being frequent visitors to the hospital two months ago."

"How many times is _frequent?" _Naomi asks.

"We didn't check every detail," Little Guy admits, "But it was several times, ending about a month ago. The hospital staff seemed worried, since many of the injuries seemed to be signs of abuse."

"Did they tell the doctors who had been physically assaulting them?"

"No, they didn't. However, some of their injuries were quite severe. The mother seemed to have suffered some visual impediments due to a wound on her eye.:

"Further investigation is required to determine who had been abusing them," Naomi sighs.

"Oh, by the way, Dr. Kimishima," says Little Guy, "About that prescription…"

"Did you find something out?" Naomi asks.

"Yes, we found which hospital the victim had been going to and requested her charts. It says Veronica had been to the hospital a month prior to her death. Her symptoms were migraines, visual and auditory hallucinations, mood swings, and aggression. It also says she was vomiting blood and had convulsions, along with hemoptysis."

"_Convulsions? Vomiting blood?" _Naomi exclaims, shocked to hear so many symptoms appearing on one person.

"Yes," says Little Guy slowly, "That's what it says. The doctors urged her to have more detailed examinations. But it seems that she had no intention of listening to them. In the end, she left the hospital and whatever disease she had went unconfirmed."

"If only her doctor had forced her to be hospitalized," says Naomi darkly. She remembers her past… those dim nights only lit by the flickering operation lamps as she struggled to keep her patients alive… they called them Sinners. Rather ironic…

"That's just how things are these days," Little Guy shrugs. "People don't really get concerned about strangers."

"Let's continue with the investigation," says Naomi quickly, sharpening back to her old, tough self. "Let's continue with the investigation. Sorry for being emotional just now. In any case, we don't know what disease she had. Judging from her symptoms, it was something severe."

"I agree," says Little Guy. "If we find anything out, I'll be sure to let you know immediately."

"You do that," says Naomi briskly. "It may give us another hint in solving this case."

She suddenly remembers something… _the parents had hospital records too…_

"These two share a common link," she realizes, talking to herself. "The victim's hospital records say she'd been at the hospital since two months ago. For the month before her death, she'd been treated at the hospital… Now, the parents' hospital records say they'd been visiting the hospital since… also two months ago. Veronica was going for migraines, hallucinations, mood swings and vomiting blood. And her parents were going after suffering frequent injuries. A month before the victim was found dead, the parents suddenly stopped having these injuries. An unpleasant coincidence, to be sure… I hope there's no connection here."

She muses, and doubles back to the fractured little finger. Like it or not, these two facts are related. "According to the charts, the victim's symptoms were migraines, hallucinations, mood swings, vomiting blood, hemoptysis, and, perhaps most importantly, sudden aggressive behavior. That is, she was acting out violently. Her conditions must have worsened severely a month before her death… that is, her violent tendencies would have increased in frequency and severity. In addition to that is the fracture in Veronica's finger. This is the only injury she had while alive… that's a common injury when people hit things with their fists. On the other hand, the parents' injuries seemed like signs of abuse. If I were to consider all these points, they show that Veronica had been physically abusing her parents."

Very severe conditions, all being dumped onto one fragile twenty-three year old. _What was she like before? _Naomi wonders dreamily, stretching back and yawning from the latest cruel fact. _Was she lovely, as the parents said? A lively girl? Why… why was your life cut short so soon? What did you do to deserve all these symptoms… migraines, hallucinations, mood swings, vomiting blood, hemopytsis… wait._

Naomi suddenly sits up straight, eyes wide in shock. _Vomiting blood? _Her mind flashes back to several hours ago, examining Veronica Cage's body, and that pretty pink shirt spoiled by splotches of red…

"Yes, we can put these two facts together!" she gasps. "According to the chart from the hospital, the victim's condition caused her to vomit blood… If she had continued to vomit blood after her hospital visit, that would explain the bloodstains on her clothing. Yes, thus, these bloodstains were caused by the blood that she had vomited."

This mystery has taken a new turn, and although it's one step closer to solving the case, it's another horrendous experience of getting to know the cruel world she died in.

"We can deduce the victim's physical state from this information," says Naomi boldly, standing up, too impatient to sit and choosing to pace around her office instead. She glances frequently at the information in her hands, trying to get some sense of all the bits and pieces. "First, the pathological changes. There's no knowing what disease she had… however, if this discoloration of the bones shows the existence of a focus, it's safe to assume that whatever disease she was suffering from was in an advanced state. The massive bloodstains on her clothes came from her vomiting blood. There aren't many conditions that cause that much hemorrhaging. From these two points alone, I conclude that she was already in terminal condition. Even if she hadn't been killed, she was already on the brink of death."

"I see," says Little Guy softly, who must've been listening the whole time to Naomi's rant, regardless of the cold tone in her voice that showed she was talking to herself. "I feel sorry for her. But if that's the case, why?"

"Why she was kidnapped?" Naomi asks, reading her partner's mind. "I still have my doubts about that, actually… did the murderer kidnap her? Or did that even happen?"

Lost as always, Little Guy murmurs, "What do you mean?"

"Whatever the case, she was definitely taken from her home before she died," Naomi explained. "The question now is what happened between the time she was taken until the car accident."

"Right, I follow you," says Little Guy uneasily.

"Once we know that, we should finally be able to see the real truth behind this case," Naomi sighs. "Little Guy. I'm going to check the victim's room one more time."

"I thought you might want to," Little Guy grins, way ahead of her. "So I have a new tool ready for you."

"Someone's prepared," Naoim notes. "And what kind of present do you have for me?"

"It's not the most appropriate gift for a lady," says Little Guy, blushing furiously. "But… it's aluminum powder for finding fingerprints. There are some useful additions to the mixture."

"Great," says Naomi. "I'm impressed."

Little Guy can't keep back his goofy laugh. "I'm glad you like it. Spread the powder anywhere that looks suspicious and shine your investigation light on it."

"And that'll make any fingerprints stand out?" Naomi asks. "All right, I'll give it a try."

"Good luck," Little Guy calls, but Naomi is already gone.

* * *

"Let's try taking another look at this place," Naomi whispers, daring the little room to hide its secrets from her, the Corpse Whisper. The almighty messenger between life and death, the FBI's prized medical examiner. This mystery shall be solved.

Naomi first tries the pile of glass in which she found the earring in, with no result. The cracked mirror goes the same way. Frowning, she sprays it all around the room… with no reactions.

_Damn… _she thinks, and accidentally drops the powder. As it falls, it leaves behind a trail of its contents… across the floor.

_The floor!_

Excited, Naomi shines the ALS on the plain wooden floor, and sure enough, a mass of fingerprints, turned blue in the showering light of the ALS, cover an entire area of the floor… in a trail… that leads to the door.

"So many," Naomi whispers, examining the sloppy trail of fingerprints. "These are all the same fingerprints… it's likely they belonged to the victim… she was probably crawling on the floor to move around. The prints indicate she was heading towards…" Frowning, Naomi moves closer to the open door. "The prints on the floor lead to the room's entrance. They're even under the mat. What's underneath the mat?"

The mat seems plain and simple, a light brown square that welcomes visitors to the dead girl's room, but now, it seems to be hiding the truth from Naomi. She drags the mat away… only to find nothing.

No mystery conquers the Corpse Whisperer, though, and she covers the area underneath the mat with both powder and spray. When the ALS is shined onto it, only the spray has a reaction, making a semicircle-shaped blue puddle against the brown wooden floor, stopping at the line that borders her room to the hallway. Reactions to sprays mean… blood.

"Just as I thought," Naomi whispers in shock, taking a step backwards. "These are bloodstains… they must be Veronica's. Considering the facts so far, these bloodstains must have been caused by blood she had vomited. Veronica's clothing was covered in blood… the amount of blood here is more than would be a fatal loss in most people. But… there's something odd about these bloodstains. Blood is a liquid. It should be evenly spread across the floor. If there was one reason for the bloodstains to be shaped like this, this door was closed when Veronica was vomiting blood. That's why the blood spread unevenly."

She walks around the blue traces on the floor, still reflecting the ALS's powerful blue light. Her hands, thin and agile, grip the door tightly. "This door had been closed when Veronica was vomiting blood. Thus…" With a swift and precise move, she shuts the door gingerly yet firmly against the wall. Now, she is all alone in the room, with the door closed. For a brief moment, Naomi feels panic, as if the dead girl will leap out from behind the couch for intruding her death place. Naomi pushes those thoughts out of her head as she continues the case. "The room is now in the same condition as it was when that happened. The lower part of the door has numerous scratches on it… what could these scratches be?"

She frowns, and sprays the luminol all over the scratches on the door, and although she had expected it, it is quite shocking and terrifying to find the blue light when the ALS is shined upon it. "Bloodstains… inside the scratch marks? From looking at the shape and location of these scratches, the marks were caused by scratching! These are traces that someone had clawed at the door! On top of that, it was done with such desperation that their own nails cracked and bled…"

Dizzy in the spite of her new discovery, Naomi opens the door again and feels the rush of claustrophobia escape her thudding heart. _That should wrap things up. I need to go back and sort through the new info…_

She does so, drumming her nails against the window the entire ride back. As usual, the moment she arrives at her office, she jumps out of the car and ditches Little Guy, leaving him to eat her dust as she runs upstairs to where her office is located.

"These bloodstains are at the entrance to the room," she whispers. "The door was closed when Veronica vomited blood… That, along with the scratches on the inside of the door. There's just one sad conclusion that we can reach from all this. The closed door with the bloody scratches indicate that when Veronica was in her room, she was locked in. Yes, Veronica was prevented from leaving here. Writhing in pain, and unable to open the door… she lost a lethal amount of blood and died right here. She wasn't kidnapped and killed."

She takes the fact of the fingerprints on the floor, and the discolored bone, and puts them together. "We can deduce the victim's condition within this room by putting these facts together," she says. "Veronica was crawling on the floor. It's likely that this is because of the mysterious disease she was suffering from. It sapped her strength to the point that she was unable to even stand… she had an attack of her disease inside this room."

_This case is almost over… _"The victim's femurs were fractured in the accident with the truck. Her skull was shattered when her body was dropped from the bridge… We've confirmed that both those injuries occurred after death. From those facts, it's clear that when the victim was on the bridge, she was already dead. Even if she hadn't been run over by the truck, she was already dead. That means that the driver was telling the truth in his interrogation."

All the facts put together, all the mysteries solved… Naomi finally feels satisfied in putting the conclusion reached caption over the case. But even while pushing back from her desk, Naomi still feels her sorrow for this girl's tragic death. Never had she ever experienced someone who died… so full of pain, of desperation, that she never got to live the life she had wanted to live.

* * *

"_The dead shall speak…"_

Standing over the bones of what used to be the charming, smiling Veronica Cage, Naomi Kimishima lowers her voice as it creeps over the air, whispering the secrets of death to each other in mute voices.

"Let's put together the truth of what happened here," says Naomi sharply, though her voice is still crisp and precise as she unravels the truth that has been hidden from the human race for over a month.

_A woman's skeleton was found 50 kilometers downriver of the city…_

And splayed onto the desk is the picture of Veronica Cage, her brown hair tumbling down to her shoulders as her shining smile stands out. What was once such a beautiful girl is now laid to waste…

_The victim's name is Veronica Cage. She was 23 years old… she was suffering from some sort of illness. It caused her severe pain along with mental instability. When she couldn't go on, she snapped and turned violent._

And in Naomi's eyes, the vision swims over. Veronica, held back by her father, as she attempts to kick her cowering mother on the floor. Her mouth, what used to be a dazzling, radiant smile, has distorted and turned into a fierce snarl as she tries to break free of her father's grip, determined to draw blood… she has turned into a beast, someone no longer recognizable by human nature, and for that, she has resorted to abusing the only people in near vicinity: her beloved parents, who had raised her for so long…

_The patient had frequently physically assaulted her parents. The same disease finally caused her own death, as well. There were traces of blood at her room's entrance. During the attack, she writhed in agony about the room. The shattered mirror is evidence of that violent behavior._

The mirror, shining in the dim light coming from the window, is suddenly smashed as Veronica's fist slams into it, though not deliberately, for it is from lack of control. She falls to the ground, writhing and struggling to rise again, but instead, her hands grasp her chest uncontrollably as pain takes over completely. The shimmering shards of the mirror, some turned into dust by the sheer force of her sudden strike, fall around her feet, like a blanket of death layering her and suffocating her. Droplets of her own blood begin to appear, from the wounds on her hand, and from the corner of her mouth…

_Eventually, her strength gave out and she collapsed. She used the last of her strength to try to leave the room. However, her one final wish was left unanswered. In her fading consciousness, she tore at the door…_

In desperation, Veronica crawls to the door that lies just a mere meter away, but it seems like a million miles in her eyes. A sudden attack of her ailment stops her as she sees a fountain of dark blood shoot from her mouth and splatter to the ground, stopped by the door. Her own blood, winking at her, even as it spreads across the room and soak her to the skin with its metallic smell. Her hands, feeble and shaking, reach out, but are trembling too much to reach the knob that towers above her. She attempts to claw at the door, to scream out, but it only comes out as a feeble squeak as she watches blood slide down the door, the result of her frantic struggle to escape the room that has housed her since she was an infant, but now, will serve as her deathbed.

_But, she died there, and the culprits carried her body out. The earring caught on something while she was being carried… She was already dead when the earring was torn from her ear. Most likely, her death surprised the ones responsible. They then cleaned the room to hide any signs she was there. But, whoever cleaned the room had poor eyesight, and thus did not see the earring among the mirror shards._

The pile of glass shards, swept up by the aging parents, glimmer viciously in the setting sun, reflecting off its powerful beams. One part of it is hidden in shadow, yet somehow, it gives off an omniscient impression as the earring glints from under the mirror shards.

_The body had to be hidden as well. Their plan was to throw the body off a bridge, eight kilometers away. But they were scared off by a pair of oncoming headlights. This culprit, with a bad back, gave up and fled the scene._

The culprits, stalking in the shadows of the night, quietly creep along the railings of the highway bridge, carrying the dead body of Veronica Cage with them. Her eyes are squeezed shut in pain and frustration, for she could not take another breath of the open air before slipping away to death. Her clothes and skin are bloody from her latest attack, and what used to be such a lovely young woman is reduced to a face of blood and withering brown hair. A sudden beam of light illuminates her pale face as a car nears them. The man, the culprit, drops the body onto the road and disappears, leaving Veronica in the mercy of the darkest night.

_Those headlights belonged to the blue truck. The driver could not avoid the body, and ran over her. The driver believed he had killed her and dumped the body. Ironically, what he did only completed the culprits' plan._

The driver clambers out of the door and is stricken to see the dead body of a young woman before him. Frightened, his eyes shining in the darkness, he takes the body in his arms and throws her over the bridge. Quietly, without a word or a scream, he gets back in the truck, still shaking in fear, and the blue truck thunders off.

_Hiding a corpse is a crime, but the driver wasn't the murderer. The ones responsible are the ones who locked her away to die. She sought help, not knowing that none would ever come. Her last words… are proof of that desperation._

"It hurts!" Her fingers, leaving bloody marks in the insides of the wooden door, slip down in defeat as her dying voice shrills over everything else. "Mom, Dad… H-Help me!"

_This… is the whole truth in how her life was cut short._

"I don't know what the dead want," Naomi says ominously, "but the truth must come out. I'm going to see the ones who cut your life's thread short."

* * *

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzt. _In the eerie silence that has occupied and set over the Cage house for several weeks, the doorbell is like a cannonshot signifying the start of war. In a way, it is.

Alice Cage opens the door, and Naomi Kimishima confidently strides in, no politeness in her expression, only the ferocious cold look she has coated over her eyes.

"The medical examiner?" the father asks cautiously, yet panic arises in his voice. "What brings you here?"

"Your daughter died in suffering," says Naomi icily, not explaining the specifics of her arrival, but going straight onto the point instead.

With a gasp of shock, the two beaten parents' eyes open wide as they both take a sharp intake of breath. _She knows. _The grimaces forming on their faces show that very well, along with the quivering fear that has been hiding in a corner for weeks that now rise to the surface of their pupils.

"She struggled, she shouted, and she clawed at the door," Naomi continues in her chilling voice, "She tried to escape so terrible that her own nails tore off. _Why didn't you open the door?" _she spits.

"There was no choice," says the father bleakly, though tears cloud his vision. "We wanted her to be happy. We wanted her to be normal! We never thought this would…!" His already torn face, both from beatings and sorrow, has taken a new turn now, as tears roll down his face and sniffles come from the nose. His eyes are squeezed to slivers, and frown lines crease over his forehead.

"Her death may have been inescapable," says Naomi bluntly. "But you defiled her death in order to protect yourselves. That… can never be forgiven."

The wail of sirens suddenly appear in the far-off distance, sounding ever closer as they begin to pull up on the street. In the din of it all, Naomi slips away upstairs.

* * *

Back in Veronica's room, for the last time. Naomi didn't bring her ALS this time, so thankfully, the hidden traces of blood and fingerprints are invisible from her eyes. Even so, Naomi takes careful tread as she gently steps over the place where the marks had been, as if trying not to disturb what little bit is left of Veronica's place on Earth.

Slowly, Naomi moves dreamily towards the open window, still casting a glow into the dim room. Sunset. This is the time when Veronica had died. But Naomi only lets the warmth of the sun soak into her skin and tries not to think of anything else.

Obviously, they do.

"When Death came to you…" she whispers, and although no one is in the room, Veronica may be listening, still attached to her home. "Did you suffer? Soon, I will know for myself…"

"_Miss Kimishima, your test results have come back…" Derek Stiles's familiar voice echoes in Naomi's distinct memory, back in their days at Caduceus, back when that sudden illness has taken to Naomi's body._

"_I see. Let me ask you up front…" Naomi had been bold back then, not afraid to know the truth, and prepared fully for it. "How long do I have until my flame goes out?"_

_Derek sighed and delivered the news quickly. "A year, at best. Maybe six months."_

"_I understand." The news was a shock to Naomi, knowing that all of her thirty years was now laid to waste, for death shall come to her soon. "Thank you, Doctor."_

"Dr. Kimishima, the helicopter's here to take you to the lab."

Little Guy's voice interrupts Naomi's nightmarish flashback, thankfully, or she might've stood at the window forever, gazing out to the sun and what little beauty she has of her life.

"All right," says Naomi. "Thank you."

Her heart still tight and clenched against her body, Naomi slowly moves to the door, looking around at the dead girl's room. As her gaze sweeps downwards, she sees that the pink wallpaper in the room had been torn slightly in the corner, no doubt of Veronica's scrabbling work. The evidence of that is simple, one word etched in blood, beneath the curling corner.

_ROSALIA._

* * *

Here's another word count: 11,299.

Only pro with mockingjayfire ditching a chapter: fighterkirby gets huge amounts done.

Now, if you're wondering why this is several weeks late, go see the description for Locked-Room Mystery. Also...

If you're wondering if this is gonna happen every time (Behind the Lies is still in progress) I'll tell you one really good piece of news: I have almost half of Patient Zero finished. While waiting for mockingjayfire to finish, I skipped ahead and did a lot of Patient Zero (this was before we decided we'd co-op Naomi) and well, yeah. I've got everything up to Demons and Death (chapter six, I believe) and working on chapter seven. :) So the moment Naomi's Story is done, most, if not, all, of Patient Zero will be finished. Cheers!

Next chapter in the chronological version: "10. Maria: Prologue: Spitfire".


	40. Naomi: III: Behind the Lies

**CHAPTER THREE  
**_Behind the Lies_

Naomi looks up from her forensics book when she hears a singing voice outside, so childish and happy, it's ridiculous. She strides to the window to see a little girl in a pale dress laughing and dancing, chasing a Monarch butterfly.

"Great. She's at it again."

Sighing in frustration, Naomi stomps downstairs and throws open the door to her house indignantly, interrupting the girl in her upbeat dance.

"Hey, kitty girl!" Naomi calls. "What are you doing? No trespassing."

"Oh, Miss!" The same girl with the cat yesterday falters to a stop and turns to Naomi's scowl. "Um, Chloe's better!"

"Chloe?" Naomi mutters. "Who are you talking about?"

"Chloe's the kitty you helped," the girl explains. "Now she comes over to play!"

"Glad to hear it," says Naomi quickly. "In any case, you're not allowed here."

Ignoring her tones and commands completely, the girl walks closer. "Hey, Miss... what's your name?"

"Me?" Naomi asks, but she says it anyways, hoping to get the girl away from the land as fast as possible. "I'm Naomi. Naomi Kimishima."

"Okay," Alyssa cheers. "Hi, Naomi! I'm Alyssa! I live just on the other side of the garden here."

"I see," says Naomi. "That makes us neighbors."

"Yep!" she smiles. "So I can come see you anytime I want!"

"Now, Alyssa, this is a place where most people can't go," says Naomi seriously. "That's why I need you to-"

"Oh, and who's this little princess?" Chief David Wayne's voice comes from behind Naomi. "Am I intruding?"

"Chief..." Naomi turns to face the big, dark-skinned man, his grey moustache still hanging down from below his nose, eyebrows raised.

"Hello, Mister," says Alyssa cheerfully. "I'm Alyssa!"

The chief only chuckles, so unlike Naomi's mood. "Hello, Alyssa. I'm David. Excuse me, but can I borrow Naomi for just a moment?"

"Okay!" Alyssa agrees. "Naomi's got work to do, right? I'll be going, then. Bye-bye, Naomi! See you later!"

Chief Wayne laughs again. "It seems you've made a cute little friend."

Naomi's eyes close softly. "You know she doesn't have any security clearance, right?"

"Now, now, do you think I'm that uptight?" Chief Wayne smiles. "It's not like we're using diamonds to decorate the garden."

"Anyway..." Naomi says, trying not to get offtrack, "You're here to talk about work, correct? I'm listening."

"Yes," says the chief. "A few hours ago, a body was found in Oxford. The FBI's requesting that we send you to investigate it."

"Me?" Naomi asks. "Is there some crime involved?"

"It's our job to determine that," says the chief. "What do you say?"

"This is my duty, isn't it?" Naomi asks sharply. "I'm on it."

* * *

"The victim lived in a cottage in Oxford with her husband," says Naomi, looking down at the body below her, covered in sheets. "The husband called the police, saying he had killed her... When they arrived, she was on the floor with a chest wound."

Little Guy stands nervously to Naomi's right, fully aware of what will soon happen. The entire world seems to dim as a purple-pink light emits from Naomi's phone, clutched in her hand. And she raises the phone slowly, as if trying to work up the drama, and listens carefully.

"_Ah... Joseph, my love! I'm sorry, I can't save you..."_

"I accept." Naomi's cold voice echoes scarily in Little Guy's ears. "The FBI thinks the husband may not be telling the truth... All right. Let's discover how this tragedy played out. Tell me the facts we have, Little Guy."

"Yes, Ma'am," Little Guy sighs. "The victim is 75-year-old Alma Parker. Her husband Joseph called the police late last night. On arrival, they found her body, stabbed in the chest. The husband was in a wheelchair, holding a bloody knife. Joseph's account is that they had a fight and he killed her."

"A man in a wheelchair stabbed someone who could walk?" Naomi asks skeptically.

"That's what he says happened," Little Guy confirms.

"Find out what you can about the murder," Naomi orders. "I'll check the body."

"Right. Please get started."

"The dead tell no tales, and if they do, nobody listens," Naomi mutters to herself. "Only the dead who haven't died yet can discover the truth. Let's begin. Show me how your light was put out!"

Naomi starts out by looking at the picture of the ex-couples: a grimy man wearing a brown wool hat, face taut, and a smiling woman, but her smile seems to have an edge of sorrow in it. Her hair is pale yellow, almost white from age. Wrinkles wrap around both elders' skin.

"According to the materials at hand, it says Joseph Parker's unable to walk due to thrombi in his veins caused by APS," Naomi muses. "The woman in the picture is the victim, Alma Parker... she has beautiful white hair as well. Not too surprising, considering their age. However, just looking at pictures won't get me any closer to finding the truth."

Indeed, no. Naomi quickly walks over beside the body, pulling the sheets off Alma Parker's corpse. "Let's begin examining the body now."

Naomi quickly sees a red stain on the corpse, and under all the blood, a cross-shaped wound. "This must be the fatal stab wound," she murmurs. "It has an odd shape... the weapon must be shaped like a cross. That weapon most likely penetrated the heart and killed the victim. Hmm... what kind of weapon has a shape like that?"

Saving it as a question for later, Naomi moves onto the patient's head, where a star-shaped bruise lies. "The victim has a wound on her head... It's... star shaped? What can wounds tell us? Yes, we can figure out the shape of the weapon that inflicted them. Still, a star-shaped bruise... what kind of weapon would leave that?"

She goes on, inspecting both of Alma's hands. The right hand has a strange shadow over it... saving it as a question for later, Naomi moves onto the left, only finding a... circle... or a ring of something.

"This is internal bleeding," she gasps. "It might have been caused by something pressing against the palm. It would require a great deal of force to leave this mark on the victim. Was she struggling against the murderer? Or is there a different reason behind it?"

Naomi continues the examination, making a mental note of the star-shaped bruise and the two palm wounds. She finds a wound on the victim's back, a small one, but a wound no doubt. "This stab wound is small, but it's rather deep. There's a wound with a similar shape, but it's a different size... "

_The other cross shaped wound, _Naomi thinks darkly, as she moves onto the personal articles.

"Bloodstains on the left sleeve," she notices. "Was there a wound on the corpse's arm?" No. "It could be the murderer's blood. This needs to be investigated further."

There are two big splotches of blood on the green jacket Alma Parker had been wearing, no doubt from the two wounds. But from the left shoulder, Naomi finds wisps of...

"Is it... hair?" she breathes. "That's bizarre, because the victim and the suspect reportedly both have white hair. I need to send this in for analysis and identification."

Going back to the office, Naomi prods Little Guy over and over again.

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima," Little Guy notices. "Do you need an analysis?"

"Well, I'm not here to ask you out on a date," Naomi snaps. "Just look at these." She shows Little Guy the picture of the blood on the left sleeve.

"Uh, okay," says Little Guy awkwardly. "Um... are these bloodstains?"

"Yes, they were on the victim's left sleeve," says Naomi, pointing specifically at the end of the sleeve, where the wrist will be at.

"That's odd," says Little Guy. "This blood isn't the victim's."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the results say that only the H-type antigen was detected in this blood. That makes this blood Type O."

"The victim has Type A blood," says Naomi, who has literally memorized Alma's file. "What about her husband? He's a suspect."

"He has Type O," Little Guy admits. "Does this mark him as the culprit after all?"

"Let's not start jumping to conclusions," says Naomi, though this only makes Joseph Parker more and more likely to be the murderer. "First, let's check to see if the husband is injured. If this blood came from him, he must be wounded." Ignoring this question for now and waiting for the FBI to get going with it, Naomi shows Little Guy the hair found on Alma's shoulder. "Could you analyze this hair?"

"Yes, of course," says Little Guy. After a moment of shocking silence in which Little Guy can barely speak in, he chokes out, "Dr. Kimishima, this isn't human hair. It seems to be from some sort of animal. Um... did the victims have any tame household creatures?"

"You know, they're called _pets," _says Naomi exasperatedly. "And no, there weren't any signs that they had any."

"Strange," Little Guy remarks. "Still, this is obviously not human hair. I can see cuticles, so this isn't synthetic hair or a fiber."

"All right," says Naomi. "Can you identify what animal it's from?"

"No, that's beyond my expertise," says Little Guy, almost shamefully. "But I do see something odd about it! Well, the hair has a tip, but the other end doesn't have a root."

"No root?" Naomi asks, as if trying to confirm. "That means the hair had been cut."

"Right," says Little Guy. "It means that the hair didn't fall off the animal naturally."

"Why would something like this be on the corpse?" Naomi mutters. Pushing the question out of her mind and deciding to look after it once she has more information, the forensics examiner continues onto the wound found on the body itself: the chest wound and the back wound.

"These stab wounds are different sizes, but they have the same shape. We can deduce that these wounds were caused by the same strike, piercing all the way through her body. If that's the case, the entry wound was her chest. Indeed, if something is pierced all the way through by a sharp implement, the entry wound must be at least as large as the exit wound. If these wounds were caused by the same strike, it would have to be 20 centimetres or longer. This isn't enough to identify a weapon, but it does get us one step closer..." To Little Guy, she asks, "Can we determine the shape of this weapon?"

"I think so, yes," says Little Guy. "I'll need some information, though. What can you tell me? How big is it?"

"Well, it's at least 20 centimetres. It's shaped like a cross. Does that help?"

"Yes, thank you," says Little Guy. "We'll have the results in a moment."

The clacking of Little Guy's fingertips as he types can be heard. "I see... this isn't a cutting tool, like a knife. It's like a spike or a spear... something meant for piercing."

"So, a stabbing weapon," says Naomi. "Hmm... I don't like the looks of this."

"Right," Little Guy agrees. "This isn't your usual murder weapon."

"Something's not right," Naomi notices. "What do you think, Little Guy?"

"You mean the weapon and the shape of the wound, right?"

"That knife isn't long enough to have done that, and it's nowhere close to the right shape," says Naomi. "No, something else has to be the real murder weapon. The second thing this tells us that Joseph was lying."

"I agree," says Little Guy. "The husband's definitely lying to us about something. In any case, we know for sure that the knife isn't the murder weapon. However, we still don't have a clue what the real weapon was, or who the killer is..."

"Take it easy," Naomi warns, trying not to get him too far ahead. "We just have to think about all of this. A sharp weapon, like a spear, that can go through a human body. We'll have to find out what it was."

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima," Little Guy says, changing the subject abruptly. "We're done interrogating Joseph."

"Joseph... you mean the victim's husband who confessed to the murder?"

"Yes," says Little Guy. "He just keeps saying that he killed her. We've got nothing to go on."

"I'd like to hear the recordings myself anyway," says Naomi. "I want to know if the blood on the victim's sleeve was his or not."

"I've already sent you the data," says Little Guy. "You can examine it whenever you want."

_Whenever you want _basically means _immediately _for Naomi.

"_I've already told you people!" _Joseph's arrogant voice crackles out of the speaker. "_It was a domestic dispute! I was angry at my wife and I stabbed her. That's all there is to it. So what if I'm in a wheelchair? Doesn't mean I can't stab someone! She was standing right in front of me, so I just shanked her right there. I turned myself in to the police right after. You know what happened after that. What? What about my hand? I injured it! That's all!"_

"I see," Naomi muses. "The victim's husband does have an injury on his hand. This will prove that the bloodstains came from the husband..." She remembers the bloodstain on the left sleeve. "True. These pieces of information do share a common bond. The blood on the victim's sleeve is Type O. Joseph has a wound on his right hand and he himself has Type O blood. There's little doubt that the bloodstains on the sleeve were left by him. That doesn't prove that he killed Alma, though. We'll need more evidence to be certain. Let's keep investigating."

Naomi sighs. "This is one bizarre case. There's so much about it that's hard to believe..."

"You don't think the husband did it, Dr. Kimishima?" Little Guy inquires.

"Who knows?" Naomi mutters darkly. "Anyway, let's put the facts we know so far in order. The reason why it's doubtful that the victim's husband is the murderer is because he hid the real murder weapon. The knife he says he used could not have caused the wounds she died of. There are other reasons to doubt him, too, no matter what weapon he used. Pushing it all the way through a human body would require a lot of strength, but he can't stand. He is wheelchair-bound and cannot stand under his own strength. Would he be able to kill someone like this while sitting in a wheelchair?"

"His hospital records make it clear that he can't stand up at all," Little Guy admits.

"Yes," Naomi agrees. "The shape of the weapon and the details of the death make it unlikely that he's the murderer. Still, he insists that he's the one who killed her..."

"I don't get it," Little Guy shakes his head. "Usually people lie to avoid being blamed for a crime."

"You have a lot of experience with lying, Mr. Investigator?" Naomi asks, prodding Little Guy.

"Hey, we agreed not to bring up the past, didn't we?" Little Guy laughs nervously.

Naomi chuckles softly. "But why would he want to make himself the criminal?"

"All I can think of is that he's defending somebody else."

"Either that, or covering up an even bigger lie," says Naomi. "That doesn't change what I need to do at all. Contact HQ about the inconsistencies we've discovered and interrogate the husband again. I'm going to the crime scene. Tell them that, too."

"Understood," says Little Guy. "I'll get authorization immediately."

* * *

The mountain house probably used to have an aura of warmth and friendliness among it, but now with Alma Parker dead, all of that seems to have evaporated and leaving only a cold, dull sensation behind. The fireplace is no longer lit, the table no longer set for the next meal. The house is clean, though eerily spotless, because if someone else makes a mess, there wouldn't be someone to clean it again.

The house has a plain wooden floor with rugs around the fireplace and table. The dining table has a white tablecloth, and on it, a clock, a fire, plates, and assortments of other typical daily things. On the mantlepiece above the fireplace hang pictures, and a bookshelf sits beside it. The wallpapers are yellow with traditional Japanese paintings of trees splayed across it.

"So this is the crime scene," Naomi mutters. "Let's begin the investigation."

She starts from below, kneeling down to find a shard of glass from under the table. "What could that be from? Supposedly, only Joseph and the responding police officer were at the murder scene... but there are no other shards of glass in this area. The police wouldn't be so foolish as to contaminate the crime scene. I'm beginning to wonder if someone there had cleaned up the other shards of glass... I could send this shard to analysis. We might learn something about it."

Naomi stands and her view just happens to be on the clock sitting on the table. "There's an inscription on this clock... _To my loving father and mother, from Abby. _A gift from a family member? Why does this decoration look familiar?"

Naomi racks her head and remembers: the bruise on the corpse's head! "That's right! It's the same as that star-shaped bruise on the victim's head. The murderer could have struck the victim with this clock... I need to take this back and carefully investigate it."

Naomi carefully puts the clock away, not damaging anything and not leaving fingerprints. She turns away from it and strides to the empty hearth.

"There are traces of something having been burned in this fireplace. It's something other than firewood... I wonder if there's anything left."

With gloves, Naomi shuffles through the dust and ashes and finds a scrap of something red, standing out from the masses of grey. "What's this? There's something else here, too..." She shifts the dust a bit more. "Is this... fur? What is this doing here?"

Deciding that this is all the information she can get, Naomi goes back to the office.

"Hey, Little Guy," she calls over the intercom, "Your turn."

"Yes, what is it?" Little Guy asks. Naomi shows him the glass shard retrieved at the crime scene. "There's some kind of compound on the concave surface here."

"Any details?"

"It's... wine," says Little Guy softly. "Yup, no mistake."

"So there's wine on the inside of this piece of curved glass," Naomi concludes. "That means this shard comes from a wine glass."

"That's probably right, but then again... there could be some oddballs who drink wine straight from the bottle or something."

"Perhaps," says Naomi. "Let's assume for the moment that it's from a wine glass. A little more investigation may provide us with more information."

Leaving that mystery behind, Naomi takes a look at the hair found on Alma's clothing and the fur in the fireplace. "These two hairs appear to be the same. If that's the case, then the hair from the fur was on the victim's clothing. Why, though?"

Another case to be solved for later.

"The decoration on the clock matches the victim's head wound," Naomi continues. "But... this couldn't possibly have been the fatal blow. I need to know exactly how this wound would have affected her."

She turns back to Little Guy. "Could I bother you for a moment?"

"Any time," says Little Guy halfheartedly. "How can I help?"

"Well, the wound on the victim's head was caused by a clock found at the scene," she says. "I want to know what that wound would have done to the victim."

"Okay, I get it," says Little Guy quickly. "I'll start looking into it right away."

"Let me know the moment you get some results," says Naomi sharply, and returns to her work.

A few minutes later, Little Guy interrupts. "Ah, Dr. Kimishima, I need to tell you something."

"Is it good news?"

"No, bad," Little Guy sighs, and gives a moment of hesitation before delivering it. "Another corpse has been found."

"Give me a break," Naomi scowls. "I'm already in the middle of investigating a case for you."

"Well, the thing is," Little Guy starts, "It might be related to the Alma Parker case."

"What do you mean?" Naomi asks, intrigued.

"A female corpse was discovered in a warehouse at the harbor," Little Guy explains. "The victim is identified as Abigail Parker. She's Alma Parker's daughter."

"_What?" _Naomi breathes. She remembers the inscription on that clock, the one Abby had given to her parents as a gift... now she's also...?

"Yes," Little Guy confirms the sorry truth. "It's not just Alma now. Her daughter's been murdered, as well."

"My God," Naomi trembles. "Is there any connection between the two cases?"

"We don't know yet," Little Guy admits. "But considering the timing, I'd believe there's a good chance that they're related."

"Alright," Naomi gives in. "Send the corpse over here. I'll perform an autopsy."

"Right," says Little Guy. "I was going to come over and tell you about the clock anyway. I'll load all the information that we've confirmed onto the computer, too."

"Huh," Naomi says softly. "A man who comes to visit bringing a dead body as a present? You're the worst guest ever. This kind of thing tends to upset people, you know."

"Hey, come on!" Little Guy protests, though his face is burning beet red. "This is my job!"

Naomi only chuckles lightheartedly. "I'm joking. I'll have a room ready."

"Yes, that would be careful," says Little Guy, careful to not let his emotions flow. "I'll see you later, then."

Naomi finishes up the work she was doing and heads over to the examination room, only to see that the corpse of Abigail Parker has already arrived. No doubt Little Guy wanted to avoid having a meeting with her. Shoving that thought out of her mind, Naomi proceeds to examine Abby's corpse.

"The daughter of Alma Parker, the first victim," Naomi muses. "Abigail Parker."

And her phone begins to hum its deadly tone, vibrating in Naomi's hands as she raises it towards her ear, hearing Abby's last words: _"Ahh! Mom! Stay away! Run...!"_

"These were her last words," Naomi murmurs. "I'm not making any promises, but I've heard your words."

And let the investigation begin.

Naomi spots the problem on the corpse immediately. "There's a deep wound on the chest. This must be the fatal wound."

Indeed, it's deep. The blood that had spilled across her chest tells that the blood loss must be lethal; it might have even penetrated the heart or a lung. But there's something peculiar about it...

"This stab wound has an odd shape," Naomi frowns. "I've seen this somewhere before."

Indeed, she has. The same cross-shape as Alma Parker's wounds...

Naomi moves onto three large cuts on the palm of Abby's right hand: formed together, intersected at the middle of each cut to form something that almost looks like an asterisk. Naomi shudders as she remembers her past days at Delphi, when she had done plenty of Kyriaki operations. The mutated Kyriaki would make three huge lacerations when it rises to the surface, very much like the cut now. Naomi quickly shakes that away. _GUILT is gone. Delphi has disbanded. And Kyriaki only makes lacerations on the surface of organs, not skin..._

"This is a cut," she says out loud. "It seems like it was inflicted intentionally. "I feel like I've seen a similar wound somewhere before..."

She moves onto the personal articles: a sunflower yellow summer dress and a black cellphone, its screen cracked and smeared.

"This is the cellphone that Abigail was carrying," Naomi muses. "It won't turn on. Is it broken? This should be sent in for analysis."

Naomi sees the blood spilled across the front of the dress, and shudders. _The amount must've been lethally fatal..._

But beside the wound is something else: strands of black hair...

"Abigail's hair isn't black," Naomi frowns. Her hair is brown... "I've seen this black hair before. It's on Alma's clothes... it was animal fur."

Heading back to the office, Naomi compares the two hairs found on Abigail and Alma's corpses. "Just as I thought... these two hairs are identical. So we know that the hair from the fur found in the fireplace at the murder scene was on both of the two victims. From this, we can deduce that the murderer had been wearing or using the fur somehow. Thus, it's not surprising if we found evidence of it with both the victims."

Naomi goes back to the thought that she has been pondering darkly: the three cuts on Abigail's right palm. "Little Guy, can we tell anything from this wound?"

"One moment," says Little Guy. "Let's see... the stab wound in her chest is the same shape as Alma's stab wounds."

"Is that so?" says Naomi. "My hunch was right. This proves that both murders were committed using the same weapon."

"So were they murdered by the same person?" Little Guy asks, trying to catch up to Naomi.

"It's likely," says Naomi. "But there's no conclusive evidence of that just yet. The wounds aren't exactly the same. There's something very different about them."

"Huh?" Little Guy gasps. "What?"

"It's the depth of the wound," says Naomi, a detail commoners would normally look over.

"Couldn't that just be a coincidence?" Little Guy protests. "They weren't killed by a machine, after all."

"I can't rule that out as a possibility, either," Naomi shrugs. "Still, Alma's stab wound pierces all the way through her body and out her back. Abigail's wound barely reaches her heart. These wounds would require a vast difference in strength to inflict."

"I see," says Little Guy slowly. "Is that so?"

"In any case, it's dangerous to make more assumptions than is absolutely necessary," says Naomi. "Let's continue investigating." She takes the cellphone. "Can you see if it can be repaired? We might be able to learn something from it."

"Gotcha. I'll get to you on that."

Naomi goes back to puzzling. "Alma and her daughter Abigail... the two corpses share one common thing. That is the weapon that killed them. Another similarity can be found among their belongings, as well. That is black animal hair. There's a very high possibility that these crimes were committed by the same person."

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima," Little Guy suddenly calls. "A new testimony has arrived."

"Good," says Naomi. _The more, the better. _"Whose testimony is it this time?"

"First, we have the person who found Abigail's corpse," says Little Guy. "He owns a restaurant, but he seems to be an acquaintance of the victim."

"Really?" Naomi asks, intrigued. "How did they know each other?"

"Well, it seems the victim was an occasional customer at the restaurant," says Little Guy. "According to the testimony, the victim had visited the restaurant not long ago."

"I see," says Naomi slowly. "This may be able to help us determine the victim's situation before she was killed. We should confirm when he last saw he victim, as well."

"Yes," says Little Guy. "There's another bit of testimony that needs to be addressed..."

"Go on," Naomi prods.

"Well... um... it's Joseph Parker," Little Guy coughs. "He's begun confessing to his daughter's murder, as well."

"_What?"_

"When the questioner asked him about Abigail's corpse, he started with the whole _I did it _spiel again."

"Why did you fools tell him about Abigail?" Naomi snarls.

"Well, he is her father," Little Guy objects. "Someone was bound to tell him."

"Well, we've lost the chance to learn what really happened from him," Naomi sighs.

"No matter where you go, there's always somebody who has to ruin it for everyone," Little Guy adds.

Naomi gives another groan of annoyance. "Oh well. What's done is done. I'll listen to his testimony, too. Send the voice data over."

"Understood. Please do so."

"_What?" _Joseph Parker whispers in disbelief. _"Abigail was... is that true? I-I mean, yeah! I killed my daughter Abigail too! I'm admitting it! I did it! What more is there to investigate? Who cares about the weapons? It doesn't matter! Quit fooling around and give me the death penalty!"_

Disturbed by Joseph's lies, Naomi's finger brushes along the recorder's controls and brings up the next testimony: a man named Victor Padrini, the person who discovered Abigail's body.

"_Well, when I found the body... I was up that morning fishing for the restaurant's Chef's Catch special... Oh yeah, if you go out a bit, they're quite easy to catch. The market's fish aren't good enough. No, for the fish to be at their freshest, they have to be killed right when they're caught. Well, I was shocked! I never imagined I'd pull up a corpse. And, even worse, it was Miss Abby Parker... That's right, I've known the Parkers for years. She'd come to the restaurant with her parents every now and again. Heavens, no! They never fought! They seemed very happy. A wonderful family. The last time Miss Abby came... was three days ago."_

"He says that Abigail was at his restaurant three days ago," Naomi mutters. "So Abigail was still alive at that time. We can trace Abigail's whereabouts with these facts. Her corpse was found about two days since her death. The man who found her body last saw her three days ago. That means that when the chef saw her, it was not long before she was killed. There's a high possibility that Abigail was killed soon after she left his restaurant. It would be best to investigate the man who was seen with her the night she died."

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima, could I bother you for a moment?" Little Guy calls.

"If I said no, would you leave me alone?" Naomi shoots back.

"Uh, no, I definitely think you should hear this."

"All right," says Naomi. "Hurry up."

Little Guy gives a queasy laugh. "Thank you. Well, HQ has made a move. The FBI's arrested a suspect for Abigail's murder."

"What's going on?"

"Who knows?" Little Guy shrugs. "Maybe they're jumping the gun. I don't know what the higher-ups are thinking. The man's name is Sean Bowen. He was Abigail's boss where she worked. His wife, Caroline Bowen, was also taken in for interrogation. They're both at HQ now."

"Is there any evidence that he's the killer?" Naomi asks doubtfully.

"It seems that this was found at the scene where Abigail had been murdered," says Little Guy, holding up an object.

"What's this?" Naomi asks curiously.

"It's an expensive lighter made in France," Little Guy explains. "It's a custom order, with his name engraved on it."

"_Sean Bowen," _Naomi reads. "Well, there's no mistaking that."

"We also showed Sean's picture to that chef," Little Guy continues. "He confirmed that Sean was the man with Abigail at the restaurant the night she died."

"I see," says Naomi quickly. "Let me guess, here's what the FBI thinks happened: Abigail was having an affair with her boss. The situation got complicated, so he killed her."

"Bingo, Dr. Kimishima," Little Guy sighs. "That's exactly what HQ thinks happened."

"What about Alma's murder, then?" Naomi snarls, still not believing that the headquarters is such a dumbass. "Would he take the trouble to murder the girl's mother to hide his affair?"

"Honestly, I don't think they're looking that far ahead," Little Guy admits. "They'd rather believe this than think that Joseph committed either of the murders."

"I see," says Naomi. "So Joseph is defending the man who killed his own daughter?"

"Well, now that you mention it, that doesn't make sense at all."

"All right, we can't say for certain that this man Bowen isn't the murderer just yet," says Naomi. "I'm sure he'll be able to tell us what Abigail was doing on that night, as well. Can you get the interrogation recordings, Little Guy?"

"I've already got them," says Little Guy proudly. "I know my stuff."

"Nice of you to stay on top of things. Send me that data ASAP."

"Got it."

"Hey, Little Guy, I need something analyzed," says Naomi.

"Sure," he says, and then guesses, "Is it the lighter that was found at the murder scene?"

"Yes," says Naomi, though not impressed. "I just need you to find any fingerprints on it."

"Fingerprints," says Little Guy. "Just a second... hmm... there seems to be a lot of them... Oh wait, they're all the same set of prints, repeated over and over."

"Can we find out whose they are?" Naomi asks eagerly.

Little Guy takes a minute to match the prints with the database. "These are all Caroline Bowen's."

"Bingo," says Naomi. "So the ones who left this lighter at the scene was Caroline Bowen. Right, Sean's wife left the lighter at the murder scene."

Unsure what to make of all of this, Naomi returns to the recorder and listens to Sean's testimony, hoping to learn something from it.

"_Good heavens... what's going on? I haven't done anything to get interrogated by people like you! Abby? Yes, she did work for us. She was a very innocent and beautiful girl... you know the type, right? Look, I'm sure you've figured it out for yourself, right? What we have is a relationship between two consenting adults! She's the one who asked me to meet her at the restaurant. But she got a phone call and left before the meal came. She went...? How should I know? Uh... she said something came up, but who knows? Huh? That's my lighter! Where did you...? Th-The scene of the murder? A warehouse at the harbor? N-No! I've never been there! I don't even carry that lighter with me! I keep it at home, so what would it be doing there? I get it, this is a trap! Someone's setting me up to be the killer! Listen, that lighter's a custom-made, expensive piece! I keep it carefully locked in a showcase at home! The showcase? It's in my living room! At my house! The only keys to case belong to me and... Huh? Me and... don't tell me!"_

"Why did his testimony end there?" Naomi asks, annoyed.

"Oh, that's when his lawyer arrived," Little Guy sighs, trying to deflect Naomi's anger towards the FBI.

"And they took measures so he wouldn't say anything self-incriminating, I get it," Naomi scowls. "That's all right, though. I learned something important that I hadn't been expecting."

"Huh?" Little Guy gasps. "You got some useful information from that recording?"

"You weren't paying attention," Naomi admonishes. "If that man is telling the truth, then Abigail's cell phone has an important clue. That is the record of calls received. Upon receiving a call from someone, she abruptly left the restaurant, and was killed. It's quite possible that call came from the murderer. Even if the caller isn't the killer, we can identify who called her."

"Gotcha," says Little Guy. "I'll make sure they hurry up and analyze the cell phone."

"Wait," Naomi calls. "We also need evidence to back his testimony up, as well."

"That's true," Little Guy admits slowly. "What can we do about that?"

"It shouldn't be difficult to get a witness to verify his testimony," says Naomi.

"A witness?" Little Guy asks, startled. "But who?"

"Think about it. It would have to be the chef, Victor."

"Ah, right. He did remember seeing Sean and Abigail at the restaurant that night," Little Guy recalls. "You think he might have more to say about how they were acting, then?"

"Yes," Naomi nods. "Can you go talk to that chef one more time?"

"No problem," says Little Guy. "I'll ask him for more details about that night."

"There's also that lighter to consider," Naomi adds. "It's most likely that it was removed from Bowen's house by the wife, Caroline. According to his statement, the lighter was supposed to be in his home. The only person besides him who would have been in a position to take it would be his wife, Caroline. If we inspect the lighter itself, we may learn something from it."

"I see," says Little Guy. "You'll need the recordings from Caroline's questioning, as well. I'll send it over right now, so please use the recorder to listen to it."

"Yes, make sure I get those. I'm counting on you, Little Guy."

"_Hey, what's this all about?" _Caroline Bowen's impatient voice snarls. "_Why are you keeping me here? What could I possibly have to do with you? Huh? I was home all day on that day. So what? You found _his _lighter at the murder scene? I-Is that so...? I wonder why. So, is he a suspect now? I don't know anything about it. I don't give a rat's ass about that cheating bastard! Can I just go home now? I don't want to deal with a murder investigation!"_

"She's rather emotional," Naomi comments. "Is she unstable?"

"That's just normal, Dr. Kimishima," says Little Guy, and after some hesitation, carefully adds, "You're a little too calm."

"Well, I have my moment's too," she argues, just as Little Guy had predicted she would say. "Sometimes."

"Anyway," Little Guy interrupts, eager to avoid this topic, "Caroline's insisting that she was home the entire time."

"Is there any way to prove that?" Naomi asks, just as eager.

"No, there aren't any witnesses," he admits. "She says she was alone the entire time."

"Did she know that Sean and Abigail were together that night?" Naomi asks, her blue eyes glazing.

"No, we told her that her husband is a suspect in a murder investigation," Little Guy tells her, slowly getting the hang of what Naomi is suggesting. "She shouldn't know that Sean was involved with Abigail. We're trying to keep the details under wraps."

"I see," says Naomi approvingly. "If that's the case, then she knows too much." Quoting Caroline Bowen, Naomi recites: _"I don't give a rat's ass about that cheating bastard! _That bit at the end, why did she call him a cheating bastard?"

"Maybe he's cheated on her before?" Little Guy asks cautiously. "He looks like a player... Uh, I mean-"

"That could be a possibility," Naomi admits. "But what if there was another reason?"

"Like what?"

"Well, for example, what if she had seen Sean and Abigail together?"

"That would explain her hostility," says Little Guy slowly.

"If that's the case, then she did witness what happened to the victim that night," says Naomi quietly. "This might lead us to something even more important. Think about it: Caroline Bowen, Sean's wife, left the lighter at the scene of Abigail's killing. Her interrogation suggests that she saw her husband together with the victim. Does this mean that Caroline is behind both the murders in the investigation? We can't say for sure... even if she had a reason for killing Abigail, she had no motive for Alma's murder. But she may be able to provide us with information regarding Abigail's murder... I need a little more information from her. That's the Little Guy's job."

Doing what she had just said, Naomi presses the call button and demands Little Guy for her request.

"Dr. Kimishima, what's this?" he groans.

"It wasn't Sean woh left the lighter at Abigail's murder scene," says Naomi crisply. "It was Caroline. That makes her most probably suspect now."

"Really," Little Guy sighs. "I wonder what HQ's going to think when they hear this."

"I don't care," says Naomi airily. "I'm not interested in your office politics."

"I know that," Little Guy mutters. "So, what do you think? Honestly?"

"I find it most likely that she's not the killer," says Naomi boldly. "Still, she may have witnessed something. If she finds herself our main suspect, perhaps that will loosen her tongue a bit."

"I'll use this info when I speak to her, then," says Little Guy reluctantly."

"You're going to talk to her yourself?" says Naomi incredulously. "That's odd."

"It takes a liar to catch a liar," says Little Guy, with a dry and bitter laugh. "I'm good at this kind of thing."

"We've all got secrets, don't we?" Naomi coughs, thinking of her own Delphi days. "I'll be counting on you."

"Right. Oh, by the way, Abigail's cell phone has been repaired."

"Great," says Naomi happily. "Were the records of received calls intact?"

"She did receive a call during the time we believe she was at the restaurant," says Little Guy. "We've traced the call to a nearby pay phone."

"I see," Naomi nods. "I wonder if this information will lead us anywhere..."

"We're going to ask around the area if there were any witnesses near the phone, but we don't expect much," Little Guy informs her. "Still, there's no doubt that that was the last call made to her cell phone."

"So there's a good chance that the call came from the murderer after all," says Naomi. To herself, she silently muses: "Abigail was called out from a public phone, and then she was killed."

"We'll continue looking into the deal with the pay phone," says Little Guy hurriedly. "Oh, we spoke to the chef again. Check out the recorder when you have time." After that, he hangs up.

Naomi doesn't follow orders, though, and doesn't even touch the recorder. "When was Abigail last seen before she died...?" Answering her own question, "Three days ago. She was seen at a restaurant that she was a frequent customer at. The one with her at the time was Sean Bowen. She was witnessed there with her boss. Afterwards, she left the restaurant alone, because a phone call caused her to leave the restaurant immediately, coming from the pay phone near the murder scene. It's most likely that the killer called her from the public phone, then waited for the victim to arrive, and ambushed her. That would be what happened on Abigail's last night in this world."

But it still doesn't fit everything together, and Naomi _needs _more clues: from the chef's new recording. Hoping that this will solve at least some of the mysteries, Naomi presses the play button.

"_How did she act? Let me think... Hmm... I remember that she was talking on her phone, and I clearly remember that she left the restaurant in a hurry soon after that. The man who was with her left in a bad mood afterwards. No, I don't think that he went after Miss Abby. He left the restaurant an hour after Miss Abby did. I know that because I had served a carafe of wine to the table. The gentleman drank it all himself before he left. I remember being disappointed because they'd ordered a very fine wine..."_

Before Naomi has the chance to pick up the peculiar statements, though, Little Guy interrupts. "Dr. Kimishima, we've received a recording."

"More questionings?" Naomi inquires. "Who is it this time?"

"Caroline Bowen," he replies. "Once they confronted her about the lighter, she started talking."

"I see," says Naomi. "I'll check it out."

"_So what if my fingerprints were on the lighter?" _Caroline scowls arrogantly. _"That's got nothing to do with... huh? Why am I a suspect? N-No, I'm telling you it wasn't like that! That skank! I didn't report it because I knew I'd get dragged into this mess! Yes, that's right. I happened to be out that day and saw them dining together. They looked like they were having the time of their lives, and I lost it! I was going to chage in there and slap both of them! And then the skank left the restaurant still on her phone, I followed that slut, but just because I was curious. I didn't want her to get away! Of course I was angry! She went into a warehouse not far from there, and I couldn't see too well from where I was hiding, but she didn't come out for a while, so I peeked into the warehouse. And there... there was this... hairy... beast! I-It was on top of her! It was doing something to her hand with its terrible claws... I-I knew she'd been killed, but I-I had nothing to do with it! I mean, it serves her right! Did she think she could just steal any man she wanted? That's... probably when I dropped the lighter... Of course I didn't report it! I would've been the very first suspect!"_

"I don't believe it," Naomi breathes, her breath coming in ragged and choking in her breath. "This is one weird testimony."

"Our murder investigation's suddenly turned into a monster hunt," Little Guy laughs anxiously. "We've had a sketch artist create a picture from her account, but are there any animals that size around here?"

Naomi swiftly snatches the sketch Little Guy had described and looks at it with narrowing eyes. A scrawl of charcoal on paper, a definite beast with an arrow-shaped mask and an egg-shaped body of fur, sticking up in all directions. Two eyeholes are cut into the mask, but that's it.

"Don't be ridiculous," Naomi snarls. "It's someone wearing a mask and some kind of costume."

"I thought as much," says Little Guy, heaving a sigh of relief that there won't be any monsters after his hide. "Could the killer be insane?"

"Who can say?" Naomi rolls her eyes. "There's no way to know anything yet. Well, time to sort through all the facts I have... From the sketch, the murderer was wearing a mask... Now I know what that white shard from the fireplace was. It must have been from the mask that the murderer was wearing while committing the crimes. But why would the murderer throw the mask into the fireplace...? Okay, I need to sort out the information I have on hand.

"My main concern right now is the costume worn by whoever killed the two women. How did it end up in the fireplace in the Parker residence where Alma was murdered? The most logical reason that can be considered at the moment is to destroy the evidence, since putting it in the fireplace could be an attempt to destroy it, and if that's the case, then something strikes me as odd about how Joseph, Alma's husband, was acting: he confessed to both murders. He confessed to Alma's murder from the very beginning, and if he was willing to confess, what reason would he have to hide any evidence? Let's assume for a moment that someone else is the real killer. Can we follow this hypothetical person's steps?

"This person would've killed both Alma and Abigail. The first person to be killed would have been Abigail, although Alma's corpse was found first, but Abigail had been killed before that. In other words, the killer wore a costume to kill Abigail, then killed Alma the next day, after which the costume was discarded into the fireplace. However, we haven't found the murder weapon yet; there were no traces of it in the fireplace. The killer would also have some connection to the two victims as well... we can assume that Abigail personally knew her murderer, because she received a phone call from a pay phone to call her out. The killer knew Abigail's phone number, and she rushed out, right after receiving the call. It's unreasonable to think that she would do that for someone she didn't know. Similarly, there's a good chance that Joseph knows the killer as well, because he lied to protect him. If that wasn't so, Joseph would have no reason to defend whoever killed his wife. So, is the killer someone that the entire Parker family would be acquainted with?"

A beeping tone suddenly interrupts Naomi's talk, and she blearily emerges from her own world into the real one. Almost clumsily, she reaches for the computer and hammers down the button that will accept Little Guy's request to talk.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he calls. "We've taken a look at the clock we recovered from the Parker house, and- WOAH!"

With a short cry, Little Guy's voice is cut and there's some fumbling with the microphone on the other end at CIFM. Naomi leans in, brows furrowed in surprise, waiting for Little Guy to get his butterfingers on the mike again.

When a voice finally comes out of the speakers, it's not Little Guy's voice... it's... Alyssa's.

"Oh, hello?" her childish tone cries. "Naomi, can you hear me?"

"Alyssa?" Naomi whispers in disbelief, giving a sigh of frustration. "What are you doing there?"

"Wow, I can hear you!" Alyssa smiles, amazed. "Um... this guy let me in..."

"Little Guy?" Naomi scowls, extremely irked.

"Um, this girl said that she really had to talk to you," he protests.

"Ugh... all right," Naomi groans, knowing that the only way to get rid of Alyssa is to fulfill her wishes. "Alyssa, can you hear me?"

"Yep!" she laughs. "I can hear you!"

"I need to do some work with the man you're with," she says sternly. "Be a good girl and be quiet for a little bit."

"Okay!" she agrees happily, and Little Guy takes the mike back.

"Ah, okay," he says awkwardly, trying to recover from that attack earlier. "So, um, about that clock."

"Yes, I heard that much," says Naomi, her patience wearing thin. "Get to it."

"As you mentioned, the decoration on the clock matches the wound on the corpse's head. It probably fell off the desk and struck the victim's head. This may have happened while she was struggling with her assailant."

"I see," says Naomi. "Is it possible for that wound to have been the cause of death?"

"Uh, no. That's impossible. The impact wouldn't have been enough to kill someone. We've inspected the exterior of the clock, but it doesn't seem that damaged, either."

"I see," says Naomi, nodding. "Then-" Her next words are cut off by a sudden, clear and precise ringing tone coming from... Naomi's sharp blue eyes flicker around the room. _No, it's not from here. _She looks at the speakers and sighs. "Little Guy. What's that sound?"

"Ah... ah... sorry," he says quickly, hands fumbling with something. "Looks like this clock is the kind that plays a little tune."

"Hey, Naomi?" Alyssa's timid voice squeaks.

"Alyssa, you said that you'd keep quiet!"

"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "But that clock is broken..."

Surprised, Little Guy cries, "Broken? Where?" All of Naomi's hostility is forgotten as Little Guy dives off his chair in search for the broken clock.

"I mean, I know how this song goes!" Alyssa says quickly. "But there's one part that doesn't sound right..."

Her breath coming in faster now, Naomi leans in, as if the few extra centimeters will get her closer to the weapon, miles away. "Little Guy, did anyone check the _inside _of the clock?"

With anticipation building inside the FBI agent as well, Little Guy opens up the clock with trembling fingers, and slowly holds up...

"Dr. Kimishima, there's something inside!"

Little Guy shows Naomi the object: a stave, with a familiar cross shape Naomi is so familiar with. A smile slowly places around her face, plastered there by the jingling tune and Alyssa's presence at CIFM. _Yes. _This will get them a huge step further in the investigation.

"I think that's our murder weapon," she breathes. "Thank you, Alyssa."

Naomi inspects the weapon slightly closer, studying its shape, its length, everything. As she circles around the stake's hilt... something familiar strikes her mind.

"The shape on the end of the weapon's hilt appears to match the bruise on Alma's hand," Naomi murmurs, reflecting back to the internal bleeding found on Alma's left palm. "This bruise could be from Alma pushing her hand against the hilt of the weapon... but if that's the case, then the person who used this weapon would have to be Alma! If the weapon is used by thrusting forward, while applying pressure with the palm, then the only way Alma could get this bruise is if she was the one wielding the weapon. But... what does this mean?"

Confusing facts now surround Naomi. _I must break through... I must pierce through this web of meaningless lies! _"Abigail was killed by the stab wound in her chest, and the shape of her stab wound perfectly matches the shape of the weapon found in the clock. The bruise on Alma's palm indicates that she had been using the weapon. If Abigail was murdered by Alma... it would make sense for Abigail to respond to a phone call from her mother. There's also her final words to consider: _Ahh! Mom! Stay away! Run...! _She didn't know Alma was the beast, because the killer was wearing a mask and covered in fur at the time. Even as Abigail lay dying, she had no idea that her killer was her own mother. That's why she called out, to warn her mother away.

"From the phone call, she would have assumed that her mother Alma was somewhere nearby. But... if Alma is the murderer... how did she end up killed by the weapon that she had been using?"

"Dr. Kimishima, the results of our analysis have come in," says Little Guy, disrupting Naomi's train of thought.

"Good," she says, distracted. "Which analysis was this?"

"The wine glass," Little Guy answers. "Something else was detected in the residue."

"Well, what is it?" Naomi asks impatiently, wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

"We've detected traces of benzodiazepine in the wine," says Little Guy darkly, a shadow crossing his face.

"Benzodiazepine," Naomi repeats. "Isn't that used in sleeping pills and anti-anxiety medication?"

"That's right," he says, impressed. "It seems to have been mixed in with the wine."

"Little Guy, was there any benzodiazepine found in Alma's body?" Naomi asks suspiciously.

"No, why?" he answers. "The results of the drug test came up with a negative on that."

"That's all right," says Naomi. "I just wanted to make sure that she wasn't the one taking it."

"Okay...?" Confused, as always, Little Guy can barely make out Naomi's words, but she has already hung up, back in NaomiWorld.

"These murders are too similar for us to dismiss the possibility that they're related," Naomi murmurs. "The wound on Alma's hand wasn't caused by external trauma, while Abigail's wound was obviously made using a sharp tool. At first glance, these may seem to be completely unrelated, however, if we consider any similarities or connections between the two corpses, these wounds may indicate some hidden link that we haven't discovered yet.

"If we believe that Alma is the one that killed Abigail, then Alma put the sleeping medication into the wine. The one who drank it was her husband Joseph."

"What do you mean?" Little Guy gasps. "Are you saying...?"

"That's right," Naomi confirms. "Alma tried to kill Joseph as well."

"But... Dr. Kimishima, isn't that just...?"

"The weapon left a bruise on her palm," says Naomi quietly, yet the authority in her voice is unmistakable. "That is proof she used the weapon."

"But she was killed by that same weapon," Little Guy interrupts.

"That's true," Naomi admits. "Let's stay calm and think this through. We have evidence that there was a struggle between Joseph and Alma, don't we? That is the blood on Alma's sleeve. The bloodstains are quite likely from when Joseph was injured and grabbed Alma's wrist during the struggle."

"Then did Joseph kill Alma during that fight?" Little Guy asks.

"I'm just saying that this is one conjecture we could make," Naomi shrugs.

"But there's no motive," Little Guy protests, not letting Naomi wander astray from the standard protocol. "The family reportedly got along well."

"Little Guy, where is Mr. Parker right now?" Naomi asks arrogantly, ignoring Little Guy.

"He's still being detained..."

"Good," says Naomi. "Tell him something: we found the weapon Mrs. Parker was using inside the clock."

"All right, I'll do that," Little Guy sighs, remembering that it's impossible to talk sense into Naomi Kimishima. "Where are you going, Dr. Kimishima?"

"I'm going back to the murder scene," Naomi answers. "I want to find Alma's motive."

* * *

The same mountain house as usual, the bloodstains still on the rugs that Alma had died on. The table is still the same, with the exception of the fact that the clock is gone from the white tablecloth. But everything else...

"Dr. Kimishima, can I bother you for a moment?" Little Guy's voice crackles from Naomi's phone.

"What's the matter?"

"HQ contacted me just a moment ago," Little Guy replies. "It seems Joseph Parker has a message for you. I'll send the recording over to you right now."

Naomi nods slowly, and her phone gives a slight _ding _and a gentle hum as it vibrates in her hand, the cue for her to look at the recording Little Guy had sent over. Slowly, Naomi raises it to her ears, making herself remember that this is a normal phone...

"_This message is for whoever is investigating my case. I don't know who you are, but I'm impressed by your skills. Go to my house and check above the fireplace. My wife's diary should be behind the stones. You must already know that I can't stand, so that's the only thing I couldn't get rid of. If you read it, you might find out what my wife was truly feeling... Please, make use of that information."_

"Did you get that, Dr. Kimishima?" Little Guy's voice comes back.

"I heard every word," is Naomi's solemn reply. "I'll have to check above the fireplace."

Naomi does so, and her hands find the stones, the bricks... wobbling as her fingers brush against them. Slowly, she takes them down, holding decades of memories as Alma had hidden her diary here, every time she wrote. Carefully, as to not destroy what's so little left of Alma Parker in this world, she finally takes down all the loose stones to find a small book in the hole.

"Here it is," she breathes, and heads back to the office with excitement building in her chest, her temple throbbing to the beat of her heart. _This is it._

* * *

"Dr. Kimishima, can you spare a moment?"

"I do if it's about the case," is Naomi's irritated reply. Her fingers itch to read Alma's diary, but... common sense tells her to listen to Little Guy as well.

"O-Of course it is!" Little Guy cries. "Alma Parker's autopsy is about to begin."

"Good," says Naomi. "I hope they find something."

"Yes, and regarding the results from the auto-image scan... a tumor has been found in Alma Parker's prefrontal lobe. It's about five centimeters in diameter, and it seems to have been causing CVD."

"Cerebral vascular disorder?" Naomi raises an eyebrow. "If that's so, then..."

"Yes, well, even if she hadn't been killed, she didn't have much time left."

"That's not the point," says Naomi, brushing that away. "Tumors in the prefrontal lobe cause visual and auditory hallucinations. There's a chance that this may explain her strange behavior."

"Wait, so you think this is related to the case?" Little Guy breathes.

"I found Alma's diary above the Parkers' fireplace," says Naomi softly.

"What?" Little Guy exclaims. "Then, Joseph was..."

"He was telling the truth," she completes. "Reading this may tell us more."

And Naomi opens the book with wobbling hands and carefully flips through the crisp pages, filled with Alma's words, painstakingly written by her hand. She takes extra care to not destroy what could very well be Alma's last essence that ties her to this world...

_I write this diary, giving thanks to the mountains and to the flowing waters... My headaches continue today. That bruise seems to have gotten bigger, too. Should I see a doctor?_

"A bruise," Naomi murmurs, shutting Little Guy out of the conversation. "What is she referring to? The... black bruise on her right hand? She was still alive when she got that bruise on her hand..."

_I write this diary, giving thanks to the mountains and to the flowing waters... A miracle happened today. I can barely believe it. I heard God's voice, beautiful and pure! The bruise on my hand is a sigil, passed on to me by God Himself._

"I see," Naomi sighs. "Well, I'm no theologian, but I doubt this was a revelation from God. What happened to her was caused by having auditory hallucinations. Her experience was likely caused by the tumor in her prefrontal lobe. She interpreted the whispers of her disease as the voice of the Creator.

_I write this diary, giving thanks to the mountains and to the flowing waters... Today, I heard a shocking premonition. We were walking the path against God's divine Will. My pain was inflicted on me as a punishment and a warning to me and my family. I cannot let this be. I must save my family..._

"..." Naomi honestly has nothing to say but feel Alma's pain, at the misdirection she was led into by the tumor...

_I write this diary, giving thanks to the mountains and to the flowing waters... The preparations have been made. I will become the Beast of the Lord, and lead my loving family. I will sever them from this world, and engrave the sigil upon their bodies, too. Abby... my little girl... I willingly become the Beast so I can save you._

"Beast of the Lord," Naomi quietly whispers, feeling her heart throb painfully. "That explains the fur."

_I write this diary, giving thanks to the mountains and to the flowing waters... I learned a terrible truth today. My little Abby never reached His side! It's my fault! I severed her connection before engraving the sigil... Ah, my loving daughter...! Please forgive your mother for being so foolish! Joseph will be saved, and I will engrave his sigil and lead his soul. I'll make sure it won't hurt. Joseph, let us be reunited in His world..._

"The diary ends here," Naomi mumbles with grief in her voice, seeking out every word to show its presence. "Alma died after writing this. The sigil that she says she engraved onto her daughter is the bruise on her right hand. Alma thought the black bruise on her hand appeared as a holy sign. That's why she thought she was saving her daughter's soul using the same pattern. She also planned to do the same to her husband. When she said she's make sure it won't hurt, she meant the sleeping pills... indeed. This diary answers a number of questions we've had regarding this case.

"Until this point, I had thought that Alma and Abigail had been killed by the same person. But, now it's clear who killed Abigail. And yet, there are several things found at the crime scene that could not have been Alma's doing. I need to review the information we have to determine if these murders were committed by the same person. Hey, Little Guy, I have something else that I need you to analyze for me."

"You do?" he asks, confused, but is still eager for something to do. "I thought we've already been through everything."

"It's more that I want to sort through what we know," says Naomi. "Alma wore the mask and the fur whens he killed Abigail. However, Alma couldn't have done everything herself, such as her own murder, and there were obvious attempts to hide evidence after Alma's death. One such piece of evidence is burning the mask and fur in the fireplace. Another example is hiding the murder weapon in the clock."

"Only one person was able to do this," says Little Guy, the truth coming to him as well.

"Yes," Naomi nods. "Now we can finally see everything that happened in this case."

* * *

"_The dead shall speak..." _Through layers of ancient knowledge and new facts uncovered is the truth of everything, the shining crystal clear water paving way for it to be uncovered. The forensics expert stands before the dead body of Alma Parker, ready to do her stuff. "Let's put together the truth of what happened here...

_In a way, you could say Alma parker is the first victim. She had a gigantic tumor within her prefrontal lobe. The conditions caused by the tumor changed her, for she believed her hallucinations were divine visions. Parting with the world... her beloved daughter was first. It was that same love that led to Alma's attack. She put on a mask and fur, then killed Abby._

Alma, in her fur costume, preparing to put on the mask that will hide her identity from even her own daughter. She slithers down the streets, leading Abigail away from the restaurant and into the warehouse...

_That's why Abigail failed to recognize her own mother. Instead, she kept screaming in order to warn Alma away, and her last words are proof of that._

"Ahh! Mom! Stay away! Run!" Abigail Parker's tortured scream echoes in the dark warehouse as the beast towers over her blood-stained body, ready to carve the sigil onto her hand. Alma Parker, hidden underneath the layers of fur, crouches forwards...

_After the murder, Alma tried to guide her child's soul, likely what Mrs. Bowen had witnessed. But Alma thought she had failed to save Abigail's soul, and in order to guide the soul to its rightful place, Alma thought the sigil needed to be applied before death. So, she made careful preparations for Joseph's murder._

Alma, the stave gripped tightly in her hand, pointed down at her husband Joseph's unconscious body. But he gives a tremor, and both his hands shoot up, causing blood to be splayed across Alma's sleeve. The two fight and struggle, but finally, Joseph takes over...

_But this plan failed to work. Joseph woke form the pain, and struggled with her in a panic. Alma wore the mask and fur again to kill her husband, and that's why Joseph didn't know it was Alma attacking him. He desperately caught her hand, resisting her. And in the ensuing struggle, they fell, stabbing Alma._

Joseph crumples from his wheelchair, hopelessly bound to the floor, unable to get up, to move the wheelchair back. Painstakingly, he crawls forwards, and with aging hands, reaches up to uncover the fur and the mask.

_When Joseph removed his attacker's mask, he realized... it was first thought that both cases had the same murderer, but with so many mysteries solved, I know that can't be. After Alma's death, someone erased evidence of her guilt. No matter how it was done, it couldn't have been Alma. And so, the truth of his is brought to light._

The raging fire burning the fireplace, untamed as it turns into a spitfire devouring the mask and the fur, eating away the last ashes of Alma Parker's beast costume. The evidence turns into dust as Joseph Parker tosses the last of the fur into the still-burning fire, always hungry for more.

_This person wanted to hide Alma's crimes. First, her costume was destroyed in the fireplace. The weapon she used was hidden within a clock in the house. Another knife was used to make Alma seem like a victim. Joseph knew Alma was not a woman who could commit murder. Her bizarre acts were a result of her brain tumor. Even then, she still loved her husband and cared about him. Her final words are proof of that..._

"Ah... Joseph, my love! I'm sorry... I can't save you..." To her dying breath, Alma Parker manages to squeeze our her final words, still haunted by the shadows lurking behind her for so long.

_This is the truth behind how her life's light was put out._

* * *

"Naomi, you have a call from Mr. Parker."

Naomi knows that it's not Little Guy's voice, for he wouldn't call her Naomi, and only the Chief will. Turning away from Alma's corpse, she faces David Wayne, who has stepped into the autopsy room. Taking the phone from the chief's hands, Naomi speaks briskly into it.

"Yes, I was just thinking about visiting you. All right, I'll be there soon."

Hanging up, she returns the phone to Chief Wayne, who asks worriedly, "Will you be all right? If you think there's any danger..."

"Chief, what do you think love is?" Naomi asks quietly. "A true love in which each thought of the other to the end... that may well have been the integral part of this case."

* * *

Back in his own home, Joseph Parker sits in the wheelchair, facing the table hiding Alma's death scene from him, and the ugly truth. He carries a coffee mug, with Naomi trailing behind him with another.

"I can't guarantee it's any good," Joseph says softly. "Alma always made coffee."

"Thank you." Naomi knows that it's best to not push him; losing two relatives at the same time must be hard...

"My wife... she was the best companion a man hope for," he sighs, and tears begin to trickle out from his eyes. "Even when I was stubborn or angry, she still loved me..."

"Mr. Parker," says Naomi quietly, "It's my duty to uncover the truth."

"I understand."

"You loved her. Even if you'll be misunderstood and branded a killer, you wanted to hide the fact that Alma tried to kill you."

"I..." Joseph's words come in gasps now, as he heaves over his wheelchair in deep sobs. "I'd be better off if she had killed me. There's absolutely no way she'd kill me without a cause! She... she must have had some reason for what she did! Please! If it ends like this, Alma'll be known as a lunatic! You have to find out what truly happened to my wife! Please!" Through Joseph Parker's lines of age and despair, inside hides the deepest pits of sorrow for the wife and daughter had lost.

"Yes, I will," Naomi nods very slowly. "That's... my duty."

* * *

"_Death comes to everyone... I'm a little jealous." _Naomi's deathly words grasp at the air with shaking fists, as she looks out the window at the hedge that borders Alyssa's home from hers.

"Oh, there you are, Dr. Kimishima," says Little Guy, walking in. "I've been looking for you."

"What do you want?" she asks coldly.

"I... have the report from the Oxford autopsy," he says.

"Tell me all about it, right now," she commands.

"Right," says Little Guy hastily, playing with his files and papers. "Her brain tumor was kind of... strange."

"Strange?" Naomi strides closer. "Could you be any more vague? Were you actually present at the autopsy?"

"Well, yes," he protests. "But it was a condition I've never seen. The tissue around the tumor was black. Nobody knows why."

"Black?" Naomi plays with the alien word on her tongue, and then suddenly, she flashes back... _the discolored bones... _"The same as with Veronica... remove that tumor. I'll have a friend at Resurgam check it. And I want the death certificate made by the end of the day."

"Huh?" Little Guy cries, shocked agape. "Y-You want me to do all that?"

"No excuses!" Naomi shouts harshly, pointing at the door behind Little Guy. "Get to it right now!"

"Urgh... I'm on it..."

Little Guy runs out the door and Naomi turns back to face the window, still muttering to herself. "Veronica's death, an old woman losing her mind... what in the world is going on?"

* * *

Wish fighterkirby a happy birthday. :)

Anyways, Behind the Lies is up, with the biggest word count I've ever seen! 12,517. :) Aya's handling Crime of Passion and Seeking Atonement, fighterkirby's got Journey's End and all of Patient Zero (maybe she'll spare THE END for Cole) and... well... yeah... REVIEW PLEASE!

~fighterkirby


	41. Naomi: IV: Crime of Passion

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**_Crime of Passion_

A busy intersection crosses outside the FBI building: brightly colored cars driving past, their owners absorbed in their own lives, paying no attention to the drama beginning to unfold inside the building next to them.

"Now, why was I called here?"

The stern, and slightly aggravated voice of Naomi Kimishima rings through the darkened elevator. The wooden panels are illuminated by the gilded numbers counting up the floors leading to the FBI agent's office.

As the ornate floor numbers tick up: _5… 6… 7…_, Little Guy answers, a slight irritation in his voice.

"How should I know? I was just ordered to bring you-"

"It's been a while since I've been at an FBI office," Naomi interrupts. "If anything happens to me, I'll make sure they know about you." Her voice is openly hostile, implying that _anything_ really does mean _anything._

On that happy note, as the floor marker hits _10_, Naomi steps out of the elevator into the corridor, leaving Little Guy in her wake.

"Wha- Dr. Kimishima!" he interjects, surprised.

But Naomi is already gone, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

* * *

"…You won't accept? No matter what?"

Agent Holden faces the closed window, leaving his face hidden. The dark, somber FBI office around him seems to fit the dreary mood perfectly, but his tone is cold, now having an edge of panic creeping into it. He had called for Naomi, but hadn't expected her to turn it down this quickly... _everything is falling apart..._

"I refuse. I'm a doctor, not one of your little agents." Naomi, sitting cross-legged on a bench opposite Little Guy, hostility etched into her voice, puts an emphasis on the last word, implying her disgust.

"You're a master surgeon who can't operate anymore." Agent Holden matches her hostility word for word. He turns, his striking features becoming visible. His eyes, hidden beneath dark glasses, are unreadable. "I wish I didn't have to resort to threats, Miss Kimishima…Let me remind you that you are only free on plea bargain."

Naomi gasps, a sharp intake of breath. She had no idea that Agent Holden knew this information…about her past career with Delphi. The memories rush back to her, the ones she tried to bury beneath years of work in her _new_ field.

"You still suffer from the disease you gave yourself." Holden continues, leaning into her face. "You don't have that many cards left to play at this point."

Now the memories come flooding back. The dreary hospital room, sparsely furnished. The voice of Derek Stiles, informing her of the disease.

"_The affected areas that were inoculated have been extracted." The memory voice of Derek Stiles says bleakly. "But… please don't forget. The genes imprinted in your cells will stay with you. I'll come up with a plan, too. Please, stay alive until then."_

Naomi snaps back to the present, banishing the memories… for now.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" She gives a sarcastic laugh, covering her momentary lapse of concentration. "Let's talk business," she adds rather reluctantly.

The gruff voice of Agent Holden returns, almost sarcastic, but not quite. "Here's the intel. The agency thanks you for your cooperation." But behind his mask lies his icy tone, the unforgiving winter chill that will never fade away.

Nevertheless, he slides a bulging envelope across the table. Emblazoned across the top, the words _Top Secret_ discourage anyone unauthorized to view it. Curious, Naomi leans forwards, fingers splayed to read the words imprinted underneath. So this is why the FBI had called for her. This must be a serious crime and a significant problem hosting in the government... what could it be?

Hesitantly, Naomi's blue eyes shift downwards to read the words embossed in the paper:_ The Raging Bomber_.

* * *

Back in the elevator, Naomi receives a call, and taking out her normal cellphone, she looks at the number, and quickly recognizes the caller. Shaking off the momentary disbelief in what she had seen in Holden's office, she answers the call.

"Hey, Naomi? It's me, Gabe." Naomi's familiar friend Gabriel Cunningham's voice crackles from the phone.

Naomi's slightly irritated voice returns. "Took you a while. Did you receive the biopsy sample?"

The numbers are now ticking downwards to ground level: _9… 8… 7…_

Gabe answers, "Yeah, I did. We had a patient here with the same condition."

Naomi sighs, her eyes flickering involuntarily up at the floor numbers. "My bad feeling's come true, then. Did the operation go well?" _Another epidemic's breaking out...!_

"Yeah, the patient made it. I called in a special surgeon."

"I see, and the cause of it all? Could it be an epidemic?" Naomi interrupts. _It can't be another GUILT outbreak. That blasted Delphi..._

"Can't say… Like you, I'm getting a bad feeling here." Gabe's worried tones echo through Naomi's mind. So even Gabe is being serious... this is so unlike him.

The elevator stops at _1_, and Naomi exits the building, her phone still pressed to her ears, Gabe continues talking, his voice almost drowned out by the noise of the traffic. "Anyways, try to get over here as soon as possible."

"Well, all right." Naomi cuts off the conversation by snapping her phone shut – as she commonly does to Little Guy – and walks down the sidewalk. But as soon as she takes a few steps, she is assaulted by two eager young reporters.

"You're Dr. Kimishima of CIFM, right! I'm with "The Gossip"!" The eager young man's camera clicks, capturing Naomi's surprised expression.

"I hear that you're helping the FBI with some difficult cases!" his friend says, also mashing his shutter button.

Naomi shuts her eyes, trying to block out the noise. "I'm not involved," she says in a calm voice, barely concealing her frustration.

"C'mon, don't be like that! Is it true you can hear the dead!" the young reporter asks eagerly. "Why were you at the FBI today? Is it about the bombings?"

The camera flashes one final time, capturing Naomi's dramatic image perfectly. Naomi quickly swivels around on her heel and melts into the crowd, yearning to escape the reporters and their deathly cameras, but it's too late. They already have what they want.

* * *

That photo appears plastered on the front cover of _The Gossip_, over the headline _Corpse Whisperer Takes On the Raging Bomber! _

Chief Wayne turns to the inside article of his copy, lounging in his desk chair. "What a mess. The media doesn't know what discretion is."

"Indeed… It's as if they revel in the deaths of innocents." Naomi answers, thoroughly disgusted in the coverage.

A voice sounds from behind Naomi. "Dr. Kimishima, the corpse has arrived." Years spent with Little Guy has taught Naomi the expertise of knowing when her partner is arriving, and now, he is. Only he would say that, and only he would say it with such politeness, for he is the only one who fears Naomi biting his head off.

She turns. "What's with those clothes?" she says to Little Guy, suprised, completely irrelevant to the corpse business.

He certainly isn't wearing his usual navy suit. Instead, his clothing is all white, in an attempt at a dressy look. Instead, on him, he just looks plain silly, because he has just attempted to look like a _doctor._

Little Guy, slightly embarrassed, mutters, "Oh, um, there's some camera crews outside, so I, uh…"

Naomi, her disgust turned on Little Guy, stalks out of the room, high heels clicking against the floor. Little Guy turns, surprised, blushing deeply. "H-Huh?" he protests, confused. Then, louder, "Dr. Kimishima! Hey, wait up!"

He races out the open door in her wake, trying to catch up with the Corpse Whisperer.

* * *

Naomi, back in her office, faces the corpse, ready to start on a new case. "The mysterious Raging Bomber…the focus of public attention." Her phone begins to vibrate, signaling the arrival of a new message… from the dead spirit. "When people die, they become things. But…" She cuts off, lifting her cell phone, now glowing an eerie shade of pink and purple, to her ear.

"_Melissa? What could this b-?"_

Naomi closes her eyes, and lets the body's final words wash over her. She has found her first clue: the dead's last words.

"The voice… He was cut off," she says, frowning. Her eyes snap open. "Didn't he even have a chance to see his death coming?" she asks herself. "A death like this must leave you unsatisfied. All right…I'll find the malice lurking in the dark." A strength comes into her voice at the end. This is her job. She is here to solve this murder. And solve it she will.

Little Guy finally arrives at the office, just before Naomi begins her investigation of the corpse, out of breath from chasing after her.

"Hm…You're late, Little Guy. Hurry up and get ready."

"But…Y-You're the one who left me behind!" Little Guy pants indignantly.

"…That's because of your foolishness. Tell me the facts." Naomi retorts, all business now.

Little Guy sighs, defeated again. It's impossible to win the Corpse Whisperer. "All right." He clears his throat. "The case this time is the series of bombings lately."

"I gathered. This is about the Raging Bomber, correct?" Naomi asks.

"Yes… He calls his victims first, and has killed three so far. A politician, an entertainer, and now an athlete."

"I see." Naomi answers. "And there are no clues? No wonder the FBI's panicking."

Little Guy winces from the blunt insult. "Ouch… that's harsh. But I can't argue against it." He continues his summary. "This body is the former Aidan Posner, a tennis player. Aged 28, killed at his own home." He continues gingerly. "Since the First Lady is coming to Portland in a few days… we need this case solved ASAP."

Naomi frowns. "So this isn't for the people who live here?" She gives a sarcastic laugh. "How noble."

Little Guy feels the need to defend the organization he's been working with for the past few years. "It's not like that! It's in everyone's best interest."

Naomi snorts. "Hmph. In any event, what do we know about the case?"

"We have items left at the scene, and his manager's testimony." Little Guy answers quickly. "We also have a record of the call before the bombing."

"Right, let's check everything. We might find a clue." Naomi says to Little Guy. Then, she turns to the corpse. "I'm not going to sympathize or have pity on you… But I will see that you get the farewell you deserve. Let's begin. Show me how your flame was extinguished!"

And with that, she begins the autopsy, starting with examining the corpse.

The first thing immediately noticeable is the lacerations on the victim's chest. "This wound is likely from the impact of the explosion. Studying the pattern of these wounds may help us determine how far the victim was from the explosion," she says to no one in particular, a common habit of her previous cases.

Upon more searching, she finds another clue. A piece of metal, lodged in one of the cuts. _This piece of metal is lodged in the corpse's body. This is probably because.. the explosion blew it there. The force from an explosion can turn almost anything into a deadly projectile._ She thinks. Then, to remind herself, she says out loud. "We'll need to look at this later to find out just what it is, though."

After a few more minutes of examining the corpse, she finds an anomaly. "Hm…what is this? There's some sort of substance on his finger…" And indeed there is. Along the side of the corpse's right hand, a mystery powder resides. "It's peculiar that it's there. Further research may tell us more."

Looking further at the hand, she notices something. _The epidermis on the hand has thickened stratum corneum… this indicates repeated application of pressure, friction, or force to this area. A condition commonly known as a "callus". _She thinks. "If I recall correctly, his occupation was… Ah, yes, he was a tennis player. This means his dominant hand was his right hand. This, along with the musculature on the arm, suggests he was right-handed."

Finishing her investigation of the corpse, Naomi turns to the table with the victim's personal effects. Other than the burned and bloodstained clothing on the t-shirt and shorts, however, there's nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary.

Grunting with impatience and returning to her office, she begins to piece together clues. First, though, she needs to gather information about what she already has seen.

She calls Little Guy. "Can I bother you, Little Guy? I want to know more about these chest wounds."

Little Guy shrugs. "Sure. The wounds spread in a radial pattern. Looking at the angles, it seems that they're centered on the abdomen."

Naomi thinks about this for a second. "Hm…In an explosion, the shockwave travels in a sphere from the point of origin. Of course, parts of the bomb and the surrounding materials are caught up in the shockwave." She keeps putting together the information. "The wounds on the body indicate this radial pattern. If the bomb did in fact cause these wounds, the bomb must have been…very close, within a meter of the victim."

She frowns. "In other words, the bomb was right in front of the victim when it went off."

Little Guy seems to wince. "Yikes…I'd never want that to happen to me."

Naomi ends the call, and goes back to her evidence pile. But immediately she finds something else, and rings Little Guy again.

"Hey, Little Guy. I need something looked at."

Little Guy stares at the evidence. "OK. This…? It's a piece of steel pipe. You could find this anywhere. What do you need me to check?"

Naomi rolls her eyes, completely exasperated with Little Guy's thickheaded behavior. "It was lodged in Aidan's corpse, probably propelled by the blast."

Little Guy finally understands. "I see…I'll perform a chromatographic scan on it, then."

Naomi sighs. "Please do."

The test results come back immediately. Little Guy seems puzzled. "Hmm…This…"

Naomi interrupts. "Have you found anything out?"

Little Guy frowns. "There's black powder on it. It was probably used as the propellant in the explosion."

"Hm…I see. If that's the case, then that piece of metal is…Yes, it's most likely part of the bomb that killed the victim." The clues begin to fit. "Black powder and a steel pipe…we're one step closer to finding out how this bomb was made."

Naomi has another question for Little Guy. She shows him the substance found on the corpse's hand. "What's this substance, Little Guy?"

"Um…give me a moment. I'd assume it's something that was carbonized by the blast." He frowns. "Huh…? No, wait."

"What's the matter?" Naomi asks.

Little Guy seems confused. "Well…this isn't soot of a remnant of something that had been burned."

"Then what is it?"

A puzzled Little Guy answers. "Uh…if I were to make a decision based on what I see here… It's carbon dust."

Naomi frowns. "Carbon dust? Why would something like that be on the victim?"

"Ugh. I thought you'd ask that. But, well…I don't have a clue." Little Guy says, a note of petulance in his voice.

"Tell me why they hired you, again…?" Naomi asks, frustrated.

"Hey, people don't just run into carbon dust in their daily lives." Little Guy defends himself. "Using it as a component in a bomb is…unusual, too. Honestly…I just don't know."

Sighing, Naomi answers. "Hm…Oh, well. Let's just keep this fact in mind for later, then."

Having run out of clues she has so far, Naomi decides to check out the testimony by Aidan Posner's manager, Melissa Ferrell.

"_Y-Yes…I'm all right. I've calmed down now." _The youngish voice of Melissa Ferrell rings through the speakers. "_Yes, I'd heard that the next target would be an athlete. But…I never imagined Aidan would be murdered…He'd just had the security on his home increased, after all. He didn't want to do it, but I convinced him…Yes…the more famous you are, the more danger you're exposed to. On the day it happened, I was going to go over some arrangements with him. I called him about an hour before…He seemed to be perfectly normal then. When I parked in front of his house…it suddenly exploded." _A note of horror enters the voice. "_Huge flames just burst out of the windows…it was so sudden! I thought there had been a gas leak or something, and that I had to rescue him! I managed to force the door open, and I saw him on the floor…! I frantically pulled him out by his legs…but…by the time I got him out of the house…He wasn't breathing anymore."_

The recording ends, and immediately after, Little Guy calls.

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima. Did you review the testimony recording? Oh, by the way, about the manager: there's almost no chance that she's the culprit."

Naomi frowns. That was exactly what she was thinking to investigate next. "How do you figure that?"

"We've done a complete background check on her, and her home has been searched thoroughly. Based on that, I'd say that we can trust her testimony."

"Is that so?" A hint of sarcasm enters Naomi's voice. "So, is the bomber a magician, then?"

"Huh?" Little Guy answers, feeling idiotic.

Naomi, her brain working a mile a minute, speaks her thoughts. "According to the manager's testimony, the victim's security was perfect. How did this so-called "Revolutionary" plant the bomb in his house, arm it, and time the explosion perfectly to kill the victim?"

Little Guy, seeing Naomi's reasoning for the first time, answers. "Good question. The only thing we can say about this bomber is that the victims were killed by bombs." Little Guy winces, knowing how lame his statement sounds.

Naomi ignores his stupidity. "Let's continue investigating, then. It's my job to solve cases like this." She lets a note of superiority enter her last statement, pointing out that the FBI asked _her_ to solve this case.

Naomi moves on in her clue-hunting stage. "So, Little Guy, where's the other recording?"

"Oh, you mean the recording of the bomb threat, right? I can send it to you right now."

"Hm…this doesn't make sense. The bomb actually _allowed_ his voice to be recorded?" Naomi asks, frowning.

"Um, well…He calls himself "the Revolutionary" in the message…But, he gave specific details about the bombing before it happened. It has to be him."

Naomi rolls her eyes. "He's either an idiot, or he's confident that he won't get caught. Anyway, I'll listen to it. I might find out something."

She moves to her recorder to listen to the recording of the fourth bomb threat.

"_Hello…? Hey! You listening? It's the Revolutionary!"_ The voice is a man's. It has an odd amount of emotion in it, as if either the person is a very melodramatic actor, or is going slightly insane. _"You guys must be total idiots! I win again! Three out of three! Sweetdiculous! Seriously, the police here are a joke! But still…Now the big boys are listening, yeah? Stepping up to the plate? You know, who is it that's in the newspaper…The Corpse Whisperer? Yeah…That is one smokin' hot tomater! She's definitely my type! Now that she's paying attention, I'll be nice and give this my best shot, too! Ready? Okay! It'll be…a white guy! That's my only hint! You'd better try your best! She's supposed to be a real firecracker, right? Hahaha…I'm lookin' forward to this!"_

Naomi steps back from the recorder, feeling angry. "What a lunatic. He disgusts me…"

Little Guy answers, a like sentiment in his voice. "All this murder is just a game to him. Sick bastard… well, it's not like we're ones to talk."

Naomi, now getting really angry, snaps at him. "Have you forgotten our promise, Little Guy?"

Little Guy winces. "Oh, right…No talking about the past. Sorry."

Naomi decides to ignore that slip of the tongue. "So…was the voice on the phone processed at all?"

Little Guy, glad to be off that touchy subject, answers. "We've run a spectrographic analysis on the voice from the recording. It doesn't look like there's any audio manipulation being applied to the voice. Cocky bastard."

"I see…So that's the "Revolutionary's" real voice, is it? If that's true, then we can tell that he's a young male. That was a young man's voice. He also gave us an advance notice of the next bombing. He said his next target would be a Caucasian man." She frowns. "That's right, a Caucasian male. That's a little vague…"

"No kidding. We're doing what we can to narrow down possible targets."

Hm…Good. We don't want any more deaths from this maniac's hands." Naomi, still a bit upset from the maniac's phone message, terminates the call. But, almost immediately, Little Guy calls back. This time, his voice is very grim.

"Dr. Kimishima…another corpse has arrived."

Naomi's eyes widen. "Another one? What are you talking about?" A hint of panic rises in her voice.

"The newest victim. There was another bombing." Little Guy's voice sounds hollow through the speakers.

"The Raging Bomber again?" A hint of incredulity.

"…Yes, apparently. The corpse is in the autopsy room. Please investigate it when you have time."

"All right, I'll look at it right away." Naomi's resigned voice echoes around the room.

She rushes to the autopsy room, where, as Little Guy said, another corpse is waiting on the table. _Some men give you candy, some men give you flowers…and some give you new corpses to investigate._ Naomi sighs. "The fourth one. How many more will there be by the time this is all over?"

And, with the familiar buzzing sound, Naomi's cell phone begins to ring. She flicks it open and raises it to her ear, afraid to hear it, afraid to know what the dead will say this time. And she hears… silence?

"I can't hear anything…" She says, confused. "So he died before he was able to say anything about his death."

With this in mind, Naomi begins the investigation of the new corpse.

One of the first things she checks are the hands. And…sure enough, on the side of the left hand…

"Hm… there's something on the fingertip. I've seen this somewhere before. Now… where was that? Ah, yes… I noticed this on the third victim, Aidan Posner, as well. There's something a little different about this, though… Aidan had it on a different part of his hand. The substance on Aidan's hand was on the right little finger. And that substance was carbon dust. I should have these compared to see if they're the same substance."

Next, Naomi checks the most obvious anomaly. "Hm… the corpse has obvious lacerations and burns caused by the explosion. These wounds look very similar to the ones found on Aidan's corpse. This requires further investigation."

Naomi walks back to her office, contemplating her new clues. As she walks in the door, she receives a phone call from, who else, but Little Guy.

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima. We've found some information about the victim."

"I'm listening." Naomi's clear voice has no trace of any emotion, but gives her rapt, undivided attention.

"Let's see…the victim is Stephen Eldred. He's 20 years old and is a student at a local college."

"And a Caucasian male, as in the bomber's warning?" Naomi asks.

"Yes, but we still don't know if this is the Revolutionary's doing or not," says Little Guy grimly.

"Well, finding out shouldn't make us any happier," she sighs. "It's another life lost."

"Right, right. This might sound a little morbid, but we got lucky with this explosion. It didn't cause any fires or structural damage, so the crime scene is more or less intact. This gives us a better opportunity to find out who did it, no matter who it was."

Naomi nods, though still finds herself disgusted by the very idea. "Hm… that's true. The more information we can get, the better. Investigating the crime scene and the corpse may help us progress in the investigation."

"Right. I've sent all the information we have right now to your computer. I'll have HQ get us a recording of the original bomb threat, too."

"Please do. I'm going to continue investigating." Naomi says, wanting to get this case over with as soon as possible. The next step is... the victim's home.

* * *

"This room belonged to the fourth victim, Stephen Eldred." She looks around. It certainly looks like a bomb scene. The window is shattered, leaving glass all over the floor. There are scorch marks in the walls, and a guitar lies broken on the floor.

"The explosion was concentrated on the right side of the room. The left side is almost untouched."

A computer sits on a desk, a chair next to it, as if somebody just stood up from it. Shelves are lined with books, and over the desk, various bulletin boards hang, covered in papers.

Suddenly, something happens. There's a loud ringing sound, as if a bell were being rung. Naomi, startled, asks, "Hm? What's that sound?" Upon further investigation, it's easily found. "Ah, so that's what it was." An old-fashioned spin-dial telephone sits on a table, blaring out the sound. Naomi answers it with gloved hands, hoping for another clue. "Hello?"

A man's voice answers. "Excuse me, but isn't this Mr. Eldred's residence?"

"That's correct. And you are?" answers Naomi, not giving anything away, though excitement and anticipation builds up sharply.

"Michael Lang. I'm from Loan & Taxes. If you are aware of our business model, then you must know why I'm calling."

"Hmm…" says Naomi, frowning. "You're a loan shark. Does that mean Stephen Eldred has a debt?"

"I will not divulge any of my customer's personal information. Please let Mr. Eldred know we're trying to contact him. Well, then…" The loan officer rudely hangs up the phone.

"Michael Lang from Loan & Taxes…was that really a call from a loan shark?" Naomi glances over the room one last time. She looks at the object lying on the floor.

"Wow…this is filthy. It appears to be a broken guitar. It seems to stand out, compared to the rest of this room, though."

Another thought occurs to her. "Hm…could this be the computer that the victim used? This may still have some information we can use. Let's power it up and see what there is…" Naomi attempts to turn on the computer, but receives no response. "Odd…the screen isn't turning on." She tries pushing a few keys on the keyboard. "It's not accepting any input, either. Could it be broken?" She makes a mental note to ask Little Guy to take a look at the computer.

With another quick glance around the room, Naomi notices something else. A piece of metal, embedded in the wall. _What could this piece of metal be from? It's embedded rather deep. It was most likely launched by the force of the explosion._

With all these new clues, Naomi decides to head back to her office and put together what she has learned so far. But the first thing she does is to call Little Guy.

"Hey, Little Guy. I need some help from you."

"What are you up to now?" Little Guy asks, suspicious of her behavior.

Naomi puts on a mock offended tone. "I'm insulted. There's somebody I need you to look into."

Little Guy, slightly relieved that it isn't _too_ much of a job, answers. "Is that all? That shouldn't be any problem."

"Good. His name is Michael Lang. He's a loan shark."

"Planning on buying a house soon?" Little Guy tries to bring some humor into the atmosphere, unsuccessfully, though.

"Stop playing around. He called the victim's phone." Little Guy's comment had only made Naomi's annoyance spring forth.

"I see…" says Little Guy, back to business now. "Was it a collection call? Did the victim owe him money?"

"He hung up before I could find out. That's why I'm asking for your assistance.

"Ahh…I get it. Okay, I'll look into him."

"Make sure to check whether or not he's employed at a place called 'Loan & Taxes'." Naomi reminds him. "For all we know, the man who called was the bomber himself."

"I'll keep that possibility in mind." Little Guy says, hanging up the phone.

Naomi gets to work, piecing together the pieces of the puzzle. She calls Little Guy to ask him about something. "Little Guy, are you a music aficionado at all?"

Little Guy, confused, answers. "Huh? Why? Well, I know bits and pieces…"

"Hm. Maybe you might not know, either. I need you to analyze this guitar." Naomi says, hoping a lead is to be found.

"Whoa, this thing's pretty nasty…" Little Guy says. And then his voice changes. "Holy-!"

"What's with you?" Naomi asks. She didn't notice anything special about the guitar, and the fact that Little Guy might've observed more than her is unthinkable.

"D-Dr. Kimishima! Where'd you find this!" Little Guy is almost panicking. "Wait… more importantly, how did this happen to her!"

"'Her'? It was in the victim's room. Stephen's, that is." Naomi doesn't get Little Guy's fascination with the guitar, but decides to go along with it.

"Then…Th-the neck was broken in the explosion!" Little Guy sounds well and truly angry now.

"Probably, yes. So what?" Naomi answers.

"Son of a bitch! The Raging Bomber's gonna pay!"

Naomi, a bit disturbed by Little Guy's outburst, says ,"Hey, calm down. What's wrong?" She has never seen Little Guy swear out loud (it's normally her doing it).

"I-I can't calm down! This guitar…it belonged to musical legend Ben Frank! Look, it's the 1955 Dagmite model! Ah…I can't believe it!" Little Guy seems on the verge of a breakdown. Scratch that, he _is _experiencing a breakdown.

"I don't understand. Is that instrument valuable?" Naomi asks cautiously. Now she is playing the part of the cautious partner, not saying anything that will set Little Guy alight.

"It's beyond valuable!" Little Guy yells in his tantrum. "Finding this is a miracle! Normally, I'd have it sent to the museum immediately for safekeeping, but… Ugh, _dammit_!"

"Uh…" Naomi is confused now.

"Oh, what? Doesn't this get to you, doctor?" Little Guy yells at her, all impressions of the fact that he likes her forgotten, all the politeness gone from his voice.

"N-No, not really. I mean…it's a broken guitar." Naomi says, trying to keep her voice calm, rather than respond with more emotion.

"Augh! You don't understand! Listen to me…if this was ever on the market, it would go for seventy to eighty thousand dollars! I wouldn't be surprised if bids went over a hundred grand!"

"That's… impressive." Naomi says, rather disinterestedly, for guitars honestly have no use to her.

"Arrrgh!" Little Guy screams at nobody in particular. "Now it's personal!" Leveling his voice, Little Guy says to Naomi, "Dr. Kimishima, we have to put this bastard… I mean, this killer behind bars!"

"Yes, well, I agree." Naomi says, hanging up the phone abruptly, cutting Little Guy off his rant. "Hmph. In any event, a guitar worth more than a hundred thousand dollars? That's not the kind of thing an ordinary student would be able to afford. Perhaps I should have him look at it…once he's calmed down a bit."

A while later, Naomi has something else to ask Little Guy, about that piece of metal she found in the wall. "Hey, Little Guy? Could you tell me anything about this?"

"Yes, of course. It's a piece of metal." Little Guy says, trying, and failing, to be humorous. With no doubt, all his tantrums from earlier had died down, and is now fighting to gain his professionalism and trust back from Naomi.

"I collected it from the wall of the room the explosion happened in, so I thought…"

"Yep, it's a piece of steep pipe." Little Guy interrupts. "It could have come from anywhere." Then, a minute later…"The Chromatographic scan shows traces of black powder. The powder was used as the explosive propellant."

"Hm…now we know for sure what that piece of metal is. It's part of the bomb."

"Yes…" Little Guy says. "It's likely the same situation that occurred with Aidan's death. The analyses show that the powder and the metal are exactly the same as those found in Aidan's bombing."

"I see. I get the feeling that this will work with something else that we know." Naomi decides to leave the putting together of the clues until later. She needs something else from Little Guy.

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima? Do you need something analyzed?" He looks at the data she has just sent him. "What's this?"

"This was found on the fourth victim's corpse. Can you see if this is the same substance that was found on Aidan's hand?"

"Sure. It'll just take a moment… Hmm. This is carbon dust, too. There's no mistaking it."

"I thought as much." Naomi answers. "But why would they both have carbon dust on them?"

Yet another thing occurs to Naomi. "I need these wounds analyzed, Little Guy." She jabs at the lacerations on Stephen Eldred's body.

"Okay. Let's see. Radially expanding wounds…it's very similar to Aidan's injuries, though the explosion itself seems a little smaller."

"Hm…if the wounds are the same shape, the reason why should be obvious. These wounds can tell us that, if the pattern was similar to Aidan's, then the explosion went off at very close range, and this victim was killed by a close-range bomb as well. At first glance, it looks like the same method was used…I should compare the two to learn more."

She takes another look at the clues. "These pieces of metal were found at both Aidan's and Stephen's deaths. Material analysis showed that both pieces were chemically identical. That means that both pieces were originally part of a steel pipe. There's something else we discovered about the metal fragments. Black powder was found on both pieces, the propellant for the explosion. The same components, the same metal casing…the bombs in these cases are the same type of explosive."

After more thinking, she sees another pattern. "Hm…yes, these two clues can be put together. They both have carbon dust on their fingertips…but there's something quite different between the two of them. That is that the dust is on different hands in the two different victims. The substance was on Aidan's right hand, but on Stephen's left. So many similarities, and one difference. This bothers me a little."

And another similarity comes. "Aidan Posner and Stephen Eldred…the conditions of both explosions were the same, and both explosions were about the same strength. There's a good chance that these two deaths were caused by the same person after all."

Another thing for Little Guy to look at, as Naomi's eyes wander over to the computer clue she had gathered. "Hey, Little Guy, could you look at something for me?"

"The computer won't boot up? It was in an explosion. It's probably broken." Little Guy talks as if to a particularly dense person. But Naomi is anything but dense.

"That doesn't really matter, as long as we can get the data from the hard drive."

"True. Huh…wait a second."

"Did you find something?" Naomi asks almost eagerly.

"Yes…" Little Guy says musingly. "The computer's fine. It's not starting up because it's locked."

"Is there a way to unlock it?" Naomi asks the obvious question, but gets a less-than-clear answer.

"Well, we could try to force our way in, though there's a chance it'll wipe itself and we'll lose the data. It seems the victim was using voice authentication software."

"Voice authentication? So it'll only start up using the owner's voice."

"Yes, but… it belonged to Stephen Eldred."

Naomi sighs in frustration. "So it'll never start up again."

She decides to ask Little Guy about the guitar again. "Little Guy? Can I borrow you for a moment?"

"Yes, of course. Do you need me to look at something?" he asks eagerly.

"Can you take a close look at… this guitar?" Naomi asks, hesitating.

"Of course. I am a professional, after all," says Little Guy arrogantly, trying to defy how he had acted before. "I can be impartial."

Naomi rolls her eyes at Little Guy's childish tone. "Please do, then. What can you tell me about it?"

"There's not much I can say, other than… No, wait a moment."

"Found something?" Naomi's patience is wearing thin, like the layer of the Savato coating before it yielded it vulnerable to the scalpel...

"Yes…it looks like this guitar was played by someone other than Ben Frank."

"Hm…so, what does that mean? Is the guitar a fake?"

"No! Of course not!" Little Guy is getting worked up again. "The scratches, the wear, everything says it's the real deal! But…Ben Frank is right-handed. And this guitar has been set to be played by someone who is left-handed."

"The guitar's set for a left-handed player? The difference between right- and left-handed guitars is the string orders. The string order is reversed, depending on the dominant hand."

Little Guy raises his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you knew that, Dr. Kimishima. When the thinner strings are on the right, it's for right-handed players. It's the opposite for left-handers."

"Hm…" Naomi thinks out loud. "The fourth victim owned this guitar. I doubt that he would lend his $100,000 guitar to anyone else. That makes it likely that Stephen Eldred was left-handed. That information could prove useful."

Another connection comes together. "There is something we can deduce using this information. The Raging Bomber is believed to have been responsible for four bombings. Of the two cases that I've been investigating—the third and fourth victims—both bombs were made of a metal pipe and used black powder. Also, the wounds on the victims have another similarity. That is that the wounds on the bodies help us determine the strength of the explosions. It turns out that both corpses had almost the exact same wounds. Materials, propellants, power…they all point to the idea that the two bombs were virtually identical. Another similarity in the two cases is the victim's distance from the bomb. Both Aidan and Stephen had been very close to the bombs when they went off. Same bomb, same delivery method…this all draws us to a logical conclusion that these two murders were the work of the same person."

She returns to the clues. "These two may lead us to learn something new. The third victim, Aidan Posner… the callus on his hand is proof of his dominant arm. He was right-handed. The fourth victim, Stephen Eldred… his guitar tells us which is his dominant hand. That would be his left hand, as his guitar was strung for a left-handed player. The famous musician the guitar belonged to was right-handed. If anyone were to change the strings, it would be the current owner. Thus, we can reason that Stephen Eldred was himself left-handed. I wonder if this difference will be any help in this investigation..."

And this connection leads to another lead, proving that it indeed helps in this investigation. "Both the third and fourth victims had carbon dust on their fingers, but the locations of the dust are the major differences between them. On the other hand, we've learned about a difference between Aidan and Stephen. The two victims had different dominant hands. From these two facts, we can tell that the carbon dust was on their dominant hand. I think we've gotten a little closer to figuring out the meaning behind the carbon dust. Hey, Little Guy? There's something I want to ask you." Again, Naomi calls Little Guy.

"Yes? What is it?" he asks, desperate for something to do.

"Did you know the victim at all before the bombing?" Naomi asks skeptically, a glowering tone edging into her voice.

"Huh? No, I've never seen him before." Little Guy sounds slightly worried, as if Naomi might suspect him.

"I thought so. That makes this a little odd."

"Odd how?" Now Little Guy is confused again, something that often happens when talking to Naomi Kimishima, such as the luminol experience all the way back in the so-called locked-room mystery case.

"The 'Revolutionary' did give advance notice about his next target. Still, the victim this time is obviously different from his previous ones," Naomi explains.

"Hmm… what's different about him?" Little Guy asks, failing to catch up as usual.

"It's that he isn't famous," says Naomi briskly. "A politician, a celebrity, and an athlete. All the other victims until now were in the public eye. This bombing killed an ordinary college student with no notoriety at all."

"Hmm…" Little Guy says, seeing where Naomi is going with this. "That's true, now that you mention it."

"Perhaps this was a copycat crime after all?" Naomi thinks for a minute. "Or, perhaps, has the Raging Bomber changed his modus operandi?"

"We might be wrong to assume that. Maybe the reasoning behind the other victims wasn't that they were famous."

"Hmm…" Naomi hadn't thought of that. "In any case, we have to continue investigating. Keep finding out whatever you can. Let me know if you learn anything."

"Understood. I'll do that."

Naomi spends the rest of her time piecing together the rest of her clues, but fails to succeed in her own quest. She looks over the corpses and personal effects once more, and, as expected, finds nothing in particular. The Corpse Whisperer is forced to spend the rest of her time in silence, waiting for Little Guy.

And Little Guy does find something out. "Dr. Kimishima? We've found out more about that man."

"What man? What are you talking about?" Naomi asks, leaning forwards, eager to get this over with.

"Oh, uh, Michael Lang. He really does work for Loan and Taxes."

"So that is a real company after all. Is that his real name?" Naomi presses.

Little Guy sighs. "Yes, though what he does is barely considered legal."

"Hm… if that's the case, is there the slightest chance that he's the bomber?" asks Naomi, looking for a lead.

"I don't know about that," Little Guy sighs, trying not to be at Naomi's heel all the time. "I'll send you a recording of his interrogation anyway. Please listen to it when you have time."

"Got it," says Naomi happily, and adds, "Even if he isn't the culprit, he can at least tell us more about the victim. There's no reason to not listen to what he had to say."

And so, Naomi goes to listen to the interrogation.

"_Yes, that's correct. I'm his financial agent."_ Sure enough, it's the voice Naomi heard on Stephen Eldred's phone. _"He's dead? Hm… that's a problem. If that's true, our company will be gravely affected. It seems you don't know, but Mr. Eldred… he owes us one hundred thousand dollars, including interest. Of which he has paid twenty-five thousand, leaving seventy-five. The Raging Bomber… well, I've seen the name in the news. This will be problematic. He'll have to take on the debt, then. We extremely regret having to hear about something like this… yes, it's true that we issue unsecured loans. Still, there's no reason to loan money to people with no means of repaying that debt. In all honesty, Mr. Eldred agreed to make a down payment of $10,000 for the loan. Not only did he make that initial payment, but he paid $5,000 the first month and another $10,000 the next. His source of income? I'm sorry, but our consumer financial group does not search within other people's private concerns. Yes, we did loan $100,000 to Mr. Eldred. This was based on the assumption that he would repay the loan. We killed Mr. Eldred? You must be joking. If we killed off our customers, we'd never reclaim what was owed to us! I'd say that we take a much more…pragmatic approach._

As soon as Naomi is done listening to the recording, Little Guy calls. "Oh, Dr. Kimishima. I have additional information about Michael Lang. He's a veteran loan shark who's been working with Loan & Taxes for the past twelve year."

"I see." Naomi sighs. "It looks like we'll need to do some investigating into the victim as well."

"You mean…Stephen Eldred?" Little Guy queries.

"Right," says Naomi approvingly. "He doesn't fit the pattern of the previous bombing victims. For example, he isn't famous. He's the only one who wasn't particularly well-known. Why would the bomber target him at all? If we can figure out why, I think we'll see a great deal of progress in this case."

But again, she comes up with more information to investigate. "There's more to it than that, though. The victim himself made some unanswered questions. According to Michael Lang, the man from Loan & Taxes, Stephen was a hundred thousand dollars in debt. The reason for that was that he bought a guitar. The value and the amount he owes fit together. Still… how can an ordinary student get such a substantial loan? The reason must be because he had a periodic income. There was a deposit made to his account. A large one, of unknown origin. That was why the loan shark accepted his means of repaying the debt. This led to Stephen being loaned the hundred thousand dollars." She sighs, a heave of breath that the papers on her desk flutter at. "The more we investigate, the cloudier the truth gets."

"Uh, Dr. Kimishima? Can you hear me?" Little Guy breaks Naomi's train of thought.

"Hm? I'm listening. What is it?"

"I've asked for another recording from HQ," he says solemnly.

"A recording of what?"

"That 'Revolutionary' guy. I thought it might be of some use to us…I ordered a copy of the announcement he made before Aidan Posner was killed."

"I see…I'll check it out." Feeling that there's really nothing to lose but time (which is the greatest enemy as always), Naomi agrees.

Naomi immediately checks the recorder. And, of course, there it is. The recording of the third bomb threat. She plays it, a bit hesitantly.

"_Hey hey! It's me, the Revolutionary!" _It's the same voice as before, that's for sure. _"What? Am I being recorded? Oh, man, this sucks! I'm embarrassed that you're taping my voice. Doesn't matter anyway, though. You'll never catch me! I mean, that singer died because you morons are so incompetent. You can't stop me. Do the ignorant masses out there hear that? Here's a little hint! Next up is…an athlete! Who? Well, I can't tell you! Think about it yourselves! And…! Huh! Oh…never mind! Well then, good luck!"_

"Little Guy." Naomi calls.

He answers his phone. "Y-yes? What is it?"

"I've listened to the Revolutionary's statement. Did anything strike you as odd?"

"Odd? Odd like…how?" Little Guy, as always, is a few steps behind Naomi in puzzling out the clues.

"Hm…Maybe I'm just imagining things. It just seems strange to me…" Naomi's ears prick slightly and her eyes glaze a bit sharper.

"Huh. I didn't notice anything."

"All right. I'll listen to it again and pay close attention." Naomi's eyes narrow, though. Something had disturbed her as odd...

Naomi listens to the recording again, and sure enough, after when the Revolutionary says: _"You'll have to think about it yourselves!"_ he cuts off, seemingly surprised by something.

"Hm…something's not right. He's cutting it short. It sounds like he was rushed at the end of his statement. I wonder what was happening... we need to figure out what was going on at that moment."

She decides to call Little Guy, and bother him about her homework. "Hey, Little Guy? What's your opinion on this?" She quickly explains the situation.

Little Guy frowns. "It does seem like something caught his attention and he wanted to finish quickly."

"Hm…why would he do that?" Naomi keeps asking. "Can we think of any possibilities?"

"Maybe someone interrupted him? Or he spilled coffee on his desk?" Little Guy gives a nervous laugh at the second statement.

Naomi sighs in exasperation. "There's no way to prove those, though. We need evidence of some kind."

"Well, let's check the spectrogram of the recording," says Little Guy hastily, realizing it's best to not disturb Naomi Kimishima's thin layer of patience before the full fury within unleashes. "I'll put emphasis on the background and reprocess it to make background noise easier to hear."

"Hm… Yes, that would be helpful." Naomi's surprised that, for once, Little Guy thinks of something faster than she did. "Send me the revised recording when you're done."

"All right. You'll find the data in the recorder."

"Good. Let's listen to it again, and be aware for anything going on in the background."

Little Guy, a quick worker as always, has already sent the recording to the machine, thankfully not taking the 10 minutes he had taken in previous cases. Naomi listens, straining her ears for anything out of the ordinary. The voice seems softer, with a sort of static in the background. But… there. Right at the point where the Revolutionary was distracted… there's a sound. _I've heard it somewhere before, I think. It was the same sound as Stephen Eldred's phone!_ Naomi thinks. _What does that mean, though?_ _Why is the fourth victim's phone heard in the background of the Revolutionary's threat?_

Returning to the computer, Naomi rushes to piece together clues. "Stephen Eldred, the fourth victim, had been periodically receiving large deposits from an unknown source. The voice we hear in the recording of the Revolutionary was not digitally altered. A distinctive sound, like the victim's phone, can be heard in the background of the recording." Naomi sighs. "The most likely answer we can deduce from these facts is that the Revolutionary _is_ Stephen Eldred."

She gives a sharp gasp. The Revolutionary _is _Stephen Eldred? Yes, that would explain everything... for if it's like this, then Stephen Eldred would've been murdered because... why? That's the question... Still stunned by her new discovery, Naomi's movements come stiff now, but her mind still whirls faster than ever.

"Little Guy! I'm borrowing the recorder!" she shouts, snatching the recorder from the desk without permission, but then again, why would she need permission?

"Huh? Wh-Where are you going, Dr. Kimishima?" Little Guy is confused, as always, struggling to catch up with the midst of things.

"I'm going back to the Revolutionary's room. There's something I want to confirm." Her breath catching in her throat and her heart pounding in her chest, Naomi runs out the door, Little Guy's voice still emitting out of the computer.

"H-Hey! Dr. Kimishima!"

But Naomi is already gone.

* * *

Back in the bomb-scorched room, Naomi thinks over her plan. "The analysis says this computer should be voice-activated. It used to belong to the fourth victim, who lived here." The computer sits, monitor blank, on the desk. A slight breeze ruffles the worn curtains. Naomi stands in the center of the room, holding the recorder. "If that person really was the Revolutionary…"

She holds the recorder up to the blank screen and presses "Play". The "Revolutionary's" voice fills the room. _"Hello? Hey! You listening? It's the "Revolutionary!"_

Instantly, the computer whirrs to life, blue screen showing the start-up sequence.

"So it's true." Naomi says. She stares at the computer. But, just then, something unexpected happens. The screen flickers off again. Then, slowly, a line of text appears.

_You've made it this far!_

Naomi frowns. "Show yourself, Raging Bomber." After muttering that one line, she types in a sentence: _Who are you?_

As if it were expecting the question, the green text is typed out on the computer.

_I'm sure you know who I am._

After a pause, in which Naomi stares at the text and her own reflection in the monitor, another line of writing appears, this time more hauntingly and scary.

_Now, let's begin Round 2._

Naomi takes a small step backwards, feeling the room of the dead enveloping her hopelessly and helplessly. She doesn't touch the keyboard now, never wanting to intrude onto the dead's property again. She wants to back away from it all, to never walk on the dead's land, to leave them alone, and devote the rest of her life in safety. _She is just a forensics examiner, not an agent. _Naomi had never expected her life to be in peril danger, and now, she can almost feel the dead's souls pressing in on her, and the small room is making claustrophobia rise to the peak of its power, and Naomi's lungs press into her body as she watches the next words slowly type out.

_Dance for me,_

_Corpse Whisperer._

The computer shuts itself off, and Naomi's phone rings. Reeling back from the screen in shock and trying to recover her breath, Naomi answers the phone. Immediately, Little Guy's voice comes over the speakers.

"Dr. Kimishima! Where are you right-"

Naomi stares around the room. She cuts Little Guy off. "He got me. The bomber's someone else." She tries to seem calm, but a note of fear rises in her voice.

"Huh! What do you mean?"

"We've got to start the investigation over from scratch. Tell Headquarters not to let their guard down!"

She hangs up the phone and stares out the open window, at the blue sky beyond.

"I've been completely fooled! How could I let this happen?" she yells at herself.

* * *

"Hello, Naomi! It's me!" a little girl's voice says.

"Yes…Hello, Alyssa." Naomi doesn't let her panic through into her voice. But Alyssa's face falls. "What's wrong?" Naomi asks.

"You don't look happy. Did something happen?" The bright green eyes stare up at her, innocent, unknowing of any of the horrors of the world.

Naomi sighs. "It's nothing. I'm all right."

Alyssa looks at her skeptically. "Really? Come on, I'm your friend! I gotta help you out!"

The little girl, in her pale pink dress looks up at Naomi.

"Thank you. You're a very kind little girl." Naomi says.

Then, an unfamiliar person walks up the path. A black-haired woman, dressed in a deliveryperson's uniform. "Excuse me, can I bother you for a moment?"

"Of course. How may I help you?" Naomi asks.

"Do you know where I can drop a delivery for Dr. Kimishima?"

"I'm Kimishima. I'll take it."

The woman's voice is cheery. "Really? Perfect timing! Here's your package." She hands Naomi a white box, with an orange label on top. Naomi reads the label.

"Gabe? I wonder if it's the test results…"

"Oh, can you sign here, please?" the woman asks, handing Naomi a piece of paper and a pen.

Naomi frowns. "This is pretty low-tech. What happened to the digital pads?"

The woman sighs. "I'm sorry, mine's broken right now. Anyway, thanks!"

She walks off down the path before Naomi opens the box.

Alyssa is almost jumping up and down. "Did you get something? Who's it from?" she smiles.

Naomi smiles, too…the little girl is too sweet to be annoyed at. "Yes, it's from a friend of mine." Naomi pulls open the top of the box to reveal…a teddy bear?

"Wow!" Alyssa squeals. "Look look, Naomi! A bigtastic teddy bear! It's so cute!"

Naomi gives a little laugh. "That's right!" she says, smiling. But then a puzzled look crosses her face. "But why would he send me this?" she asks herself. She picks up the small notecard attached to the stuffed animal.

_Good luck with your investigation!_ It reads in a fancy cursive script.

Naomi turns her hand over to see if there is anything written on the back. But instead, she notices something else.

On the back of her right hand…along the side of the hand that touched the paper… a familiar substance…

"Carbon dust?"

Instantly, she's transported back to the autopsy room.

_Aidan Posner's right finger, coated with the substance. _

_Stephen Eldred's left hand, covered with carbon dust._

_The delivery lady, as she hands Naomi a delivery confirmation paper to sign._

Instantly, all the pieces click together inside Naomi's mind. Her eyes widen as the truth settles onto her shoulders.

"Don't tell me…"

She quickly glances down at the box containing the bear inside. But the bear is gone. She suddenly has a sinking feeling in her stomach and fear is a relentless monster now, firing up to its highest power.

"Alyssa?"

She looks wildly around for the little girl. Then, she sees her, sitting next to the row of hedges blocking CIFM from the outside world. Alyssa sits, hugging the little teddy bear as if it's her own, most likely about to crawl under the bushes and to her own house... _oh no._

"Alyssa!" Naomi screams. She begins to run over to her, to grab the stuffed animal, to rescue the sweet, innocent, kind little girl, but it's too late. With a blinding flash of light, the bomb is activated. A huge sound fills the courtyard. A red and yellow flash, and the bomb in Alyssa's hands explodes in a ripple of white and orange, heated colors rising into the air in a column of smoke, a blossom of colors.

Red and Black. White and orange. Yellow and blue. Colors of blood… and death.

"Alyssa! Alyssa!" Naomi runs towards the bomb, screaming the little girl's name. Suddenly, she's held back, jerked from her path to the mass of light brown hair. Little Guy grabs Naomi's arms, holding her back from the explosion, from the girl.

"Dr. Kimishima! No, stay down!"

"Let go of me!" A tortured cry from Naomi chokes from her mouth. "She… It's my fault!"

But Little Guy does not let go. Instead, he stays, keeping Naomi back while the bomb explodes around them.

And then… all goes still. The bomb burns out, leaving the broken, battered, and bleeding body of Alyssa Breslin behind.

* * *

fighterkirby commands you to wish her a happy birthday.

Anyways, this one wasn't written by me, and not mf either. A large majority (about 99%) was written by Ayanna (pseudonym) who has been a long-term reader of this story. :) fighterkirby got a bit caught up in school and all, so Aya said she'd step in and help! I edited a bit of it, but there really wasn't much to edit. :) Great job, Aya! She'll also be writing Seeking Atonement, too! THEN JOURNEY'S END AND WE'RE DONE! *cheers*


	42. Naomi: V: Seeking Atonement

**CHAPTER FIVE  
**_Seeking Atonement _

"Dammit! Everywhere's full!" Maria Torres yells through from the cockpit of the helicopter.

"She won't last long! I don't care where, just find a place!" Naomi calls back, her voice choking up. She sits in the back of the red, white, and blue rescue helicopter sent to pick them up, with Alyssa, the poor girl with severe burns and is literally on the verge of death.

Maria thinks for a second. "There's no choice. It's far, but I'm heading for Resurgam!"

Naomi sits next to the hospital gurney, holding Alyssa's hand. "Just a little while longer… hang in there, Alyssa!" Naomi closes her eyes, replaying the events of the past hour. The Raging Bomber's threats. The bomb disguised as a teddy bear. Alyssa taking it, running across the courtyard…the explosion…

* * *

Finally at Resurgam, Naomi stands in a corridor inside the building. Alyssa has already been rushed to intensive care, leaving Naomi alone and worried.

"Yes, please do," Naomi gives instructions to a doctor. "Well, then..."

The moment the doctor runs off, leaving her alone in the loneliness of the world, she collapses into a chair, resting her head in her hands. She holds her cell phone in her hands, praying for it not to ring.

"Alyssa…" she murmurs, tears coming to her eyes.

Then, the phone begins to vibrate. The familiar glow illuminates Naomi's face.

"No! Don't go off!" Naomi's voice cracks. "She's going to live! She has to live!"

She shuts her eyes, willing the phone to stop ringing, for the eerie glow to turn off. "Please, Alyssa! You've got to live!" she says, pleadingly, almost as a prayer. No, it _is _a prayer, a desperate one, because normally, Naomi didn't pray. But it's only this time when she feels the true power of love, a bond not blossoming between her and Little Guy, but something completely different, of mother and daughter.

Just when things seem to be at their most desperate, footsteps come down the narrow corridor. Naomi's eyes snap open. A man stands there, in a white uniform. The label around his neck reads _Resurgam Visiting Doctor_. His gaze is intense, as he passes Naomi on his way to the operation room.

"Don't worry." CR-S01 says. "I promise that I'll save her!" Immediately following that, he walks past Naomi the hallway, not pausing to see if the distressed forensics examiner has acknowledged his words.

Then, as suddenly as it started, Naomi's phone stops ringing. The glow, thankfully, fades, but at the same time, it's difficult to comprehend, because moments ago it had been on the verge of a full breakout of the dead's words.

"It… stopped?" Naomi says incredulously, her voice weak, her mind too bobbling to be able to understand what had just happened.

Another doctor comes walking down the hall, footsteps treading lightly on the floor, just another layer of background sound effects to Naomi's own myriad of thoughts. The owner of the footsteps comes to a stop beside Naomi, on the same way CR-S01 is going.

"He certainly is an enigma, isn't he?" she speaks.

Naomi looks up to see Tomoe Tachibana standing there, looking down at her, concern on her face. "He only recently arrived here; he's been through a lot." Tomoe smiles reassuringly. "There's no need to worry. He'll definitely save Alyssa."

Tomoe starts after CR-S01's wake, leaving Naomi alone in the endoscopic surgeon's own, absorbed in her own thoughts and stills struggling to understand what had just happened.

"Definitely?" Naomi asks, trying to confirm that she had heard right, that she wasn't dead herself, wasn't dreaming this up.

"Yes!" Tomoe reassures, turning back with a light smile on her face, a comforting one that had come with her own nature and the many years of using it. "And we'll do our best, too! Besides, if you keep looking so sad, Alyssa will surely laugh at you."

Tomoe says all this with a light, gentle voice, used for little kids, but something changes on Naomi's face. She stands and walks down the hall, towards the exit.

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima, where are you going?" Tomoe calls, worried.

"You're absolutely right." Naomi says, determination now in her voice now, fighting back to regain her standard iciness and professionalism. "Right now, I don't even deserve to be laughed at by her." Naomi pauses. "I-I'll leave this to all of you. Alyssa… I'll be back."

As she walks away from the figure of Tomoe Tachibana, Naomi's cell phone rings. A normal ring, not the kind that brings news of death, but it still sets off alarms going on in Naomi's head. Pulling her phone from her bag, Naomi recognizes the number and raises it to her ears.

"It's Naomi," she answers.

"D-Dr. Kimishima! Are you all right?" Little Guy's familiar worried tones come through the speakers.

"Take it down a notch, Little Guy. Talk to me." Naomi's voice is calm and assertive, though clearly disguising the terrorizing tremors behind it.

"Oh… e-excuse me. I was worried." Little Guy answers shakily himself.

"It's okay," says Naomi shortly. Just this once, she will let it go. "Has the FBI contacted you? I want information."

"Ah… Right, yes!" he says quickly, anticipating this. "I've made arrangements to have it sent to us."

Little Guy answers this with pride in his voice, for once having an exact answer for Naomi.

"Great," says Naomi, which is a fair compliment coming from her. "Send a helicopter over to take me back."

Naomi ends the call. Anger blazing in her eyes, she speaks, not to herself, but to the Raging Bomber, whoever he is, wherever he is. "You won't get away. I swear I'll catch you!"

* * *

Back in her familiar office, Naomi decides to make a deeper investigation of Stephen Eldred, the man she once thought was the Raging Bomber. Sometime in the distant future, the Bomber will pay for this, because he had just almost taken the life of Alyssa Breslin, the same girl who had helped solve the Alma Parker case. This is just another act of vengeance, an act of revenge to both atone for the sins Naomi had made before and to make it up to Alyssa – to avenge her if she dies, to avenge her even if she doesn't.

But, first, she needs more information, to at least make the slimmest of leads. Calling Little Guy on the familiar button that has been the key role to solving many cases, Naomi really hopes that he has information.

"Dr. Kimishima! Are you really all right!" Little Guy asks, the moment he answers.

"I'm fine," she says, through a transparent web of lies. "Let's sort out what's happening. Any new information?"

"Uh, well, about that... We couldn't find any usable clues from the scene. We did obtain the signed delivery form, but…"

Naomi cuts him off from his hesitation. "Go on."

Little Guy frowns. "Right. Only your prints and the deliveryperson's were found. Here." He hands her a page with copies of the lifted fingerprints.

Naomi sighs, her tears long gone and her coldness coming back. "You amaze me. You still don't get it, do you?"

"Uh… what do you mean?" Little Guy isn't even sure _what_ he's supposed to get.

"Do you really think there aren't any clues to the Bomber?" Naomi asks incredulously.

"Huh? Did you figure something out?" Little Guy is surprised.

"Of course I did. That's why I'm here."

Little Guy sighs, and silence falls between them.

"Why are you being so quiet all of a sudden?" Naomi asks skeptically.

"No, it's nothing. It's just that…" Little Guy's voice trails off halfway, wandering towards the uncertainties.

"Just what?" Naomi asks, patience wearing thin.

Little Guy smiles, and spits it out. "It's like the old Dr. Kimishima I knew is finally back." Then he cringes, as if waiting for Naomi's scolding, because if the real Naomi is back, then her angry words will most certainly be appearing also.

"That's enough of that, Agent." Naomi can't help smiling, too, though. "There's no time to lose! Little Guy, let's go over the information that we have so far."

"Oh… R-Right!" Little Guy says, a bit startled.

"The Revolutionary, Stephen Eldred, was not, in fact, the Raging Bomber." Naomi starts off plain and simple.

Little Guy nods in agreement. "That's right. The real bomber placed an explosive inside a stuffed animal. And then sent it to you, Dr. Kimishima." Trying to get off that touchy subject, Little Guy comes up with a plan. "Let's trace the delivery back to its source immediately! If we can find out where that package came from, we'll find the Bomber, and then-"

Naomi rolls her eyes, Little Guy's idiocy exasperating her greatly. "There's no need for that."

Little Guy, surprised at being interrupted and having his train of thought cut off, answers, "Huh? Why?"

"Hm… Don't you think there's someone much more suspicious?" Naomi asks musingly.

"What? Who!" Little Guy asks, not seeing Naomi's thinking.

"I believe that the person who is most likely to be the Bomber is the deliverywoman." Naomi's logic is so insane, so impossible, that it's actually possible to believe.

"Huh? Don't tell me…" an astounded Little Guy answers, who obviously thinks that everything Naomi says is right.

"Indeed," she says heartily. "The person who delivered the package is most suspicious."

"Then the Raging Bomber personally handed you the bomb!" Little Guy hadn't thought of that, because he hasn't yet experienced the technique of thinking outside the box, as it crosses his borders of his line of thinking. "Isn't that… Too dangerous?"

"I have proof. I got carbon dust on my hand when I signed for the delivery. That's because the delivery person said that the digital pad was broken. Aidan and Stephen, the other victims that we examined, both had carbon dust on their hands, too. "

"I see… that explains why the carbon was only on their dominant hands!" Shock and realization is slowly coming to Little Guy now, gathering and reforming in his blue eyes.

"Yes," says Naomi, having seen that connection a while ago, but never telling Little Guy until now. "In other words, the Bomber killed the other two victims in the same way that I was targeted. The fact that the delivery person was female also points toward her culpability."

"What do you mean? " Little Guy asks slowly, unable to process that.

Naomi sighs, wondering how she puts up with this guy. "Don't you get it?" Then she realizes that she almost _always_ gets it before Little Guy, and that only pushes her impatience further. "Let me ask you this, then. How did the Bomber hide her true identity? She hired Stephen Eldred, the Revolutionary, to make the bomb threats for her. But even this was a trap. That's because his voice was unprocessed. She let Stephen's voice go out unprocessed on purpose."

"What? So, the Bomber wanted us to think-"

"Everything she did was an act, and we were fooled." Naomi interrupts. "We were all led to believe that the Raging Bomber was a young man."

"I see. If that woman _is_ the Bomber, then it all makes sense…" Marvelling at this new discovery, Little Guy shakes his head slightly to get rid of the faint dizziness buzzing around his head, which really only makes him more dizzy than he had already started with.

"Indeed," says Naomi, not giving him much of a grace period to rest his head a bit, and moving straight on. "On the other hand, there's another mystery that we can't solve just yet. Why was the Revolutionary killed? The Bomber was using the Revolutionary character as a cover to protect herself. Why, then, would she kill him? Little Guy…"

"Huh? What?" Little Guy is off in his own thoughts, trying to work out the mystery, and now startled as he tries to pull himself together to answer the questions Naomi always hurtle at him but end up answering herself.

"What happened to Alyssa's house?"

It's a simple question that fortunately Little Guy knows the answer to. "Oh. Unfortunately, it completely burned, then the building collapsed. It's useless as a potential crime scene now."

"I see." Naomi says, disappointed, but her heart also wavers when she thinks of Alyssa, and how disappointed she will be. "Then, I'm going to investigate the Revolutionary's room one more time."

"Again?" Little Guy is really reluctant now, and seems pretty determined to ward off Naomi from further Raging Bomber dangers.

"Yes, but now I know what I'll be seeing," Naomi says, with the forbidding tone in her voice that reminds Little Guy who is superior and who can fight. "You look into those deposits."

"The ones in Stephen Eldred's accounts?" Little Guy queries. "Okay, I'll get started on that right away."

"I'm going to catch her." Naomi says out loud, to reassure herself that it will happen. "That's my only way to atone for what happened."

_This is for you, Alyssa._

* * *

Back at the familiar bomb-struck room, Naomi takes another look around. _I've investigated this room before. I can't just rush around now and expect to find new information. What we need now is more information about the Raging Bomber. If the same method was used to deliver the bomb here as was used to get the other bomb to me, then the area with the most clues would be…_

She thinks for a second, then investigates near the door, where Stephen Eldred most likely would have received the package. She finds something after a minute of searching. A long black hair, curled into a coil shape, which might as well be a vital piece of information. Naomi bends closer and inspects it.

"Hm… this is a human hair," she says, which means that it doesn't come from a beast fur costume used to attack relatives, and very fortunately, will not result in another case of brain tumors. "It's about 40 centimeters long. No, it couldn't possibly be the Revolutionary's. This needs further investigation."

Next, she investigates the floor near the door, heart growing in anticipation. "If that woman delivered the bombs to us in the same fashion, then she would have left footprints at the entrance." She looks at the welcome mat, though it doesn't look particularly welcoming. The green surface is covered in a variety of footprints. "Stephen was the Revolutionary, and was male. If the delivery person was female, her footprints would definitely have been different. Let's look for footprints that differ from Stephen's..." By _let's_, it's confusing and awkward, since Naomi is alone in the room, but she seems to have been talking, as if the dead is with her.

After a minute or two of staring at the mat, she sees it. At the top of the mat, near the middle, but a bit towards the right, is a different footprint. "This footprint is definitely different in size and pattern from the others. Let's collect this print and send it for analysis." There, again with the _let's _and not the _I._

Having done so, she decides that there's nothing else left to find in the bombed room. Therefore, she heads back to her office to sort out her newfound clues and knowledge.

First, she needs to ask Little Guy a few favors: "Hey, Little Guy. I need this footprint analyzed."

"All right. Hang on a moment, please," says Little Guy. After a pause, he quietly says, "I see…"

Thoroughly impatient, Naomi asks, "Did you discover anything?"

"Yes," says Little Guy slowly. "The footprint is 27 centimeters in length, so we should expect this person to be between 170 and 180 centimeters tall."

Naomi nods in satisfaction. "The woman who delivered the bomb to me was about that tall." This is slowly piecing together...

"I see," says Little Guy. "Oh, I've also compared the pattern on the print to the FBI's shoe print database."

"Great." Naomi says, surprised that Little Guy is thinking for himself and trying to get ahead of her questions, but her net's range is far wider than that. "Can you narrow it down to a specific store?"

"Well, there aren't that many stores that carry this brand, but it's still over 100. I can narrow it down, but it's going to take some time and a lot of effort."

Naomi sighs. Homework time. "Well, do the best you can. I'm going to keep investigating."

"Understood," he says tiredly. "I'll contact you once I've found anything out."

Naomi keeps asking about another clue, pestering Little Guy to the end. "Can you tell me anything about this hair, Little Guy?"

"Sure, give me a moment," he replies, distractedly. "Um… Huh?"

"What's the matter?" Naomi mutters, commonly used to Little Guy stopping in the middle of a sentence that just has to deliver a vital piece of information.

"Well, this hair is dyed black, but it's actually a red hair," he admits.

"Red hair…" Naomi thinks for a minute. "Can you tell if it belonged to the Bomber?"

"No," Little Guy sighs. "I'd need some DNA from the Bomber to compare it to."

"Of course," says Naomi airily. "But there's a good chance that this hair does belong to the Bomber."

"Huh? Why's that?" Little Guy asks, not following Naomi's thinking. As always.

"Well, this is hardly conclusive evidence, but here's something you may not know, Little Guy." Actually, Naomi is pretty sure Little Guy doesn't know it. "Only two to three percent of people in this country are true redheads. It isn't a common color at all."

"So?" Little Guy shakes his head. "How is this related to this case?"

Naomi rolls her eyes. "Think about it. That hair's been dyed, hasn't it?"

"Right, but-"

"If that hair is the Bomber's, as I suggest, what reason would she have to dye it?" Naomi cuts Little Guy off.

"Um. It would be-" Again, Little Guy gets cut off by Naomi answering her own question.

"Her hair's natural color stands out," she points out. "Having red hair is an obvious identifying feature. If there happened to be any witnesses, her identity would be easy to discover. Isn't it plausible to think that this might be why the Bomber would dye her hair black?"

"I see," he says sluggishly. "That hypothesis _does_ make sense. The dye used seems to be a temporary coloring agent, as well."

"So the dye is meant to be washed out?" Naomi snaps her fingers. "If that's the case, she could change her hair color with every delivery to create conflicting witness accounts. That would make her hair part of her costume, as well."

"Yes," he agrees. "But, until we can prove that hair belongs to her, this is all just speculation."

"I know." Naomi thinks. "We need something to match her DNA with in order to do that. It's a decent theory, anyway. Let's keep gathering what information we can."

"Got it. I'll let you know immediately if anything else comes up."

Feeling that she is missing an important piece of information, Naomi returns to Stephen Eldred's room, on yet another trip. And then… she sees it, sitting on the floor next to the door, so innocent yet so crucial to solving this case.

"Here it is. The delivery form. If the Bomber did send this, there's a chance that this form has some important evidence. We may be able to lift some fingerprints from it."

This, of course, she asks Little Guy to do, because she's not going to do it herself. "I found this. Can you analyze it, Little Guy?"

"Huh? A delivery receipt?" he answers. "Don't tell me…"

"It's very likely," Naomi presses. "It hadn't even crossed my mind until now." Well, that's a surprise, but it hasn't crossed Little Guy's mind either.

"Right." Little Guy says distractedly. "I'll send it to the lab, so it'll take a while."

Naomi waits impatiently. Finally, Little Guy calls back. "Ah, Dr. Kimishima! The results of the analysis on that delivery form have come in."

"Did they find anything?" Naomi jumps to the point immediately.

"Sure did," says Little Guy proudly. "There were two sets of fingerprints on the paper. One of them is Stephen Eldred, the Revolutionary. He'd be the recipient. The other set belongs to…somebody else." Little Guy's answer is rather vague and unclear. "Well, common sense dictates that they'd have to belong to-"

"Let's not start jumping to any conclusions." Naomi interrupts hypocritically. "We need to find out who left those fingerprints." As soon as she says that, she sees a connection. "Little Guy? Could I bother you for a moment?"

"Yes, of course. What is it?"

"I want you to look at the fingerprints on the delivery forms Stephen and I were presented with," she orders. "Compare any prints you find that don't belong to either Stephen Eldred or myself."

"No problem. I'll be just a moment." The clacking of fingers against keyboards can be heard.

"What did you find?" Naomi impatiently asks after several seconds of this. "Are there any matches?"

"A complete match," Little Guy confirms. "There's no mistake. These are from the same person."

"Good," Naomi nods, satisfied at long last. "This is proof of another important fact. Both forms have two sets of prints: one from the recipient, and one from the person who delivered it. If the fingerprints match on both forms, then the person who delivered the bomb to the Revolutionary was the same deliverywoman at CIFM."

"Ah, Dr. Kimshima." Little Guy interrupts. "It turns out that this woman…"

"Let me guess," Naomi rolls her eyes. "She doesn't exist, right?"

"Uh, right," says Little Guy, his sorrow pathetic excuse as a comeback. "We've contacted all the delivery companies that work in this area. None of them can confirm having an employee that fits our description." He sighs at this point. "And, of course, none of them have any records of a package being sent to you that day, either. Do you think the woman making the deliveries is the Raging Bomber?"

"Hm…I can't be sure yet," Naomi shrugs. She can get away with not knowing the answer, but Little Guy definitely can't. "She might be another person being used like the Revolutionary was. We'll figure that out as we continue with the investigation."

"Right. In any case, we'll need to keep that woman in mind." Little Guy reminds her cautiously.

"How about the fingerprints?" Naomi asks irritably, reminding him just who's in charge. "Did you compare them to anything in the FBI's criminal database?"

"Of course I ran them through the system!" Little Guy says petulantly. "No matches, though. If that woman is the Raging Bomber, she's a complete newbie."

Naomi sighs. "That's an awful thought. Someone with no criminal record at all, and she's already killed four people with these bombs?"

"That seems to be the case," Little Guy agrees gravely. "This might turn out to be one tough murder spree to end. As long as she doesn't blow _you_ up, it'll be okay." Little Guy tries to lighten the mood, but instead, Naomi grows snappy.

"You might want to avoid saying things like that in the future."

"Oh! Ohhh…" Little Guy puts his head in his hands. "Sorry. Ah…" He tries to change the subject. "Anyway, we've figured out how she was delivering the bombs."

"Yes. Let's try summarizing what we know of the events in this case." Naomi says curtly. "First, the Bomber prepared a bluff to hide behind while she committed the crimes. That bluff was Stephen Eldred, the Revolutionary. The Bomber had Eldred make the bomb threats over the phone. She had him use his own voice, with absolutely no processing to attempt to conceal it. Because of this, the Bomber misled us into believing that the killer was male."

"On the other hand, the Bomber used the names of people close to the targets to send the packages." Little Guy puts in. "She did that to make her targets feel less suspicious about the deliveries, right?"

"Yes." Naomi agrees. "All the bombs were set to explode in close proximity to the target. It's likely that what triggered the explosion would have been opening the package's lid. If the bomb was set to go off when the package was opened, it would explain the wound pattern." She frowns, puzzled as she quietly spits out her next words. "Still… that's not what she did in my case. She used a time bomb for me."

"That does seem odd, now that you bring it up," says Little Guy, slightly uncomfortable on the subject of Naomi's near-death. "Why would she do that?"

"It makes a lot of sense, if you think about it." Naomi says, irked that Little Guy hasn't thought about it yet.

Little Guy frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you get it?" Naomi sighs, exasperated with Little Guy's lack of brains. "It's because she anticipated heavy security."

"Huh? You think she was thinking that far ahead?"

Naomi rolls her eyes. "Let me ask you, _Investigator_." She says in a sarcastic tone. "If someone assisting the FBI appears in a tabloid, what's your by-the-book response?"

"Um…we'd increase security to prevent the killer from striking at you." Then, realizing what he just said, he turns red and realizes that the answer is right in front of him.

"Exactly," says Naomi shortly. "In fact, the security at CIFM was heavier than usual. The Bomber had to be sure that I would be killed by the blast. If there had been a baggage screening at the entrance, and the lid was opened there… she predicted that her _present_ would never reach me."

"I see," says Little Guy. "So that's why the package didn't go off the moment it was opened."

"Yes. And she even put a note inside the package. She wanted to ensure that I would be near the bomb when it went off. If it wasn't for Alyssa, I would have been…" Naomi doesn't even want to think about it.

In the distant past, Naomi can remember her words to Chief Wayne: _No one lives forever. If I had died today, it just would've been sooner than I'd expected. _She had been on the verge of death, within an inch of it. The virus she had... it would've been completely irrelevant if she had died today.

Little Guy nods, shuddering from the same thought. "She's a tough one."

"This is the kind of mind we're dealing with," says Naomi, bringing them back on topic. "The question remains… Was the woman who delivered the package the Bomber, or not?"

"From the evidence we have, she's definitely the most suspicious character at this point. Still, this whole thing about taking such a risk to deliver the bombs herself…and if she was the Bomber, wouldn't the Revolutionary have noticed before he was killed?"

"That's possible." Naomi agrees. "However, that would only happen if the Revolutionary knew her face."

"Huh?" Naomi is ten steps ahead of Little Guy, as usual.

"Think about what happened in Eldred's room. The Bomber sent her messages via the computer. Perhaps the "Revolutionary" only knew the Bomber from the Internet."

"Still…" Little Guy is skeptical. "Would somebody really deal with someone they've never even seen?"

"Our technology gets better and better, but people can remain as naïve as the day they were born." Naomi criticizes. "But, why did the Bomber kill the Revolutionary in the first place?"

"Oh!" Little Guy remembers. "I had something to report! I almost forgot!"

Naomi sighs, exasperated. "Can you not suddenly yell like that?"

"Ah, sorry." Little Guy responds apologetically. "It's about the "Revolutionary". We looked into his financial records. It seems there were periodic deposits into his accounts. These deposits perfectly coincide with another series of events."

"Really. Hm. Let me guess. It was the bomb threats."

"Absolutely correct, Dr. Kimishima." Little Guy solemnly responds.

Naomi gives a little sigh. "Of course I am. Continue."

"Oh, y-yes. There were a total of four deposits. All of them were made around the same dates as the bomb threats. Five thousand dollars for the first three times, and ten thousand for the fourth time."

"The last one was double the others?" Naomi asks.

"Oh, yes. There's no doubt about it."

"Hmm…" Naomi thinks about that for a minute. "After that deposit was made, the Bomber targeted the one who made the threats for her. Could the change in the amount of money be related to the Revolutionary's killing?"

She puts together more clues. "We might be able to deduce something from this. I don't like to conjecture much, but I could try making some inferences. The Revolutionary was receiving periodic deposits of large sums of money. It's most likely that whoever was making these deposits was the Bomber herself, who was using the Revolutionary. In exchange, the Revolutionary performed a service for the Bomber, which was making the bomb threats. The Bomber paid him in advance to make the phone calls to deliver the bomb threats. But, according to Little Guy's information, there were four deposits. The last deposit was very different from the rest. The amount of money was double the previous deposits. Now, what could explain this sudden increase in the payment amount?" Naomi asks out loud, glaring pointedly at Little Guy.

Before he can answer, however, Naomi goes on her own way and answers it herself. "The Revolutionary could have blackmailed the Bomber. Human avarice knows no bounds. It's possible that the Revolutionary thought that he had an upper hand on the Bomber. Using that, he may have tried to blackmail the Bomber over his part in her plot. The fool…" Naomi shakes her head at the greed and arrogance people these days show.

"There is a plausible reason why he would demand an increase in his reward," she continues, shutting Little Guy out of her own world. "He took out a loan in order to pay for the expensive guitar in his room. There's no way to know whether his arrangement with the Bomber began before or after buying the guitar. But even so, nobody wants to live in fear of debt collectors.

"Still, any perceived dominance he had over the Bomber would have been in error. I doubt the Bomber even thought twice about murdering him. She seems like the type who is absolutely merciless to anyone who gets in her way. But, the Bomber did make one payment for more than the original amount. The reason for that must be to pay him for another bomb threat. The Revolutionary, after being paid twice his usual amount, made the fourth bomb threat. However, he wouldn't have known that he himself was the target of that threat. The Bomber's clever. She had the foresight to make the fourth bomb threat before killing Eldred. Without that, HQ and I would have immediately noticed that something was different. She created this diversion to hide her intentions, making Eldred's murder seem like just another attack by the Raging Bomber. This is all starting to bring one more conclusion to light."

Suddenly, Naomi's cell phone beeps, startling her out of her train of thought, and realizing that Little Guy had long since hung up on her. "Hm… It's Little Guy. Did he find something out?"

"Oh, Dr. Kimshima!" Little Guy sighs with relief. "Thank heavens I could reach you!"

"Calm down. What's the matter?" Naomi wonders why Little Guy would be in such a hurry to call her, since he was the one who hung up in the first place.

"We've made some progress into those deposits paid to the Revolutionary," he exclaims. "All four of them were made from a bank account near Higgins Beach."

"Higgins Beach?" Naomi frowns. "That's not far. What about the security footage? Was the Bomber seen by any of the cameras?"

"It's no use." Little Guy sighs. "We've checked them all, but there's no conclusive footage we can identify."

"I see. It's all right, though. I know for sure that we're closing in on the Bomber. We've gathered quite a lot of information now. If some of the facts we know are put together, maybe…" Naomi trails off, deep in thought, piecing together information.

"These facts can tell us something new. One of the footprints found in Eldred's room wasn't his. The type of shoe is sold in over 100 stores. It'll take us time to narrow down where it came from. On the other hand, let's consider the deposits that we believe the Bomber made to the Revolutionary. The four deposits were all made from a single bank near Higgins Beach. If we search for stores that sell these particular shoes near Higgins Beach, we'll at least narrow down the number of stores that we have to investigate."

Naomi makes another call. "Hey, Little Guy. I want you to look into something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"I need you to search for stores in the Higgins Beach area that sell shoes matching that footprint."

"Hmm…" Little Guy is surprised he didn't think of that. "That would be more efficient than checking out all 100 stores."

"Can you get on this right now?" Naomi asks. "The sooner we do this, the better."

"Got it. I'll search through the database we have on hand."

After a minute of impatient waiting by Naomi, Little Guy frowns. "Huh…"

"Well? How many stores fit the criteria?"

"Ah… One!" Little Guy says incredulously. "Dr. Kimishima, only one store!"

"Amazing." Naomi answers flatly. "Can you search through their sales records?"

"I'll try."

Naomi sighs. "We're following your tracks." She says to the Raging Bomber, wherever she is. "If this store has the records we need…"

"Dr. Kimishima, I've accessed the security camera footage from when the shoes were purchased!" Little Guy says excitedly.

"Good. Run it through your profiling algorithms and let's search for these parameters. First is her gender. The person we are searching for is female."

"Okay…" Little Guy says, inputting the data. "Next… what about her age?"

"Let's see… she would be… Hmm." Even Naomi is confused. "Well, we can't say anything for sure about that."

"All right. What about her nationality?" Little Guy continues, savoring the glory of it for later.

"We can't say anything about that, either," Naomi admits.

"All right." Little Guy says, a bit frustrated. "How about her height?"

"We suspect that she's between 170 and 180 centimeters tall," says Naomi quickly. Now the roles are reversed; Little Guy is the questioner and Naomi is the one who barely knows anything.

"Ah, I remember now. Hmm…" Little Guy enters his search parameters. "Were there any other distinguishing features about the person we're searching for?"

"The characteristic that would stand out the most is that she supposedly has red hair," Naomi offers.

"Okay, then. I'll start searching for people under these conditions." Little Guy sighs, seeing the hole in the plan. "But we don't have any substantial proof that the deliveryperson is the Bomber."

"That's right. We're going to have to work based off of assumptions right now. If we're wrong, we'll learn why we're wrong. We just have to keep going, little by little."

"True enough." Little Guy doesn't like basing things off of assumptions, though, but conjectures had led to success in several cases.

He frowns. "Huh?"

"What's the matter?" Naomi asks quickly.

"We have a hit, Dr. Kimishima!" Little Guy says, astounded.

"Someone meets the search criteria? Tell me!" Naomi is excited, a rare emotion for her.

"Ah, right! Just a moment. Her name's, uh, Sandra Lieberman. She's 30 years old. She lives in Higgins Beach and bought the shoes with a credit card."

"Bingo!" Naomi almost smiles. "Send me her address, immediately! I'm going to go and check myself. I'll know if it's her if I can see her face."

"R-right! Dr. Kimishima, please be careful, all right?" Little Guy says hesitantly. "There's no telling that the Bomber's not going to be-"

Naomi cuts off the call. Laughing, she says, "He's such a worrier. Still, I have to go there for myself!"

Almost happily, Naomi Kimishima drives to Higgins Beach, and the home of a reputable killer, hoping to catch her unawares.

"This address is what we think might be the Raging Bomber's home. Hmm… I should make sure I'm ready for anything, just in case."

Then, she walks in the door, failing to notice that it's unlocked, as if the bomber had been waiting for her.

The Raging Bomber's home is nothing like Naomi expected. First of all, it contains a mishmash of many different decors. A poster of the planets. Frilly pink curtains. Modern, business-like furniture. An ornate bed. On a short table sits a phone, and another table has a calculator. Second, and more sinister-looking, however, are the four numbered canisters, each attached to a lit cell phone. As Naomi shuts the door, she hears a woman's voice.

"Welcome, Corpse Whisperer! Sorry I can't be there right now!" The voice is high-pitched, and oddly lilting, putting more emphasis than usual on the words. Like the Revolutionary, this voice puts a lot of emotion into the message. "Aha… Still, since you've come all this way, I have to at least entertain you. You should see four bombs before you. They will all explode in ten minutes!" The Raging Bomber laughs, a sinister sound that sends chills creeping up Naomi's spine, sending signals screaming that she has just made a wrong move to walk into this so bluntly and so impulsively. "Calling the cell phone attached to each bomb will deactivate it. The numbers are eight digits each. Of course, those numbers are a secret! There are hints in the room you're in. Now crawl on your knees in desperate search! If you can deactivate all four bombs, you win! If you don't… you die." The Raging Bomber's voice seems to grin inanely. "I'm on my way to give a wonderful present to the world's most famous lady. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? I sent you the same present. Now, let's begin the game. The first bomb's hint is those letters nearby. Try to turn KQJQ into an eight-digit number. Don't get it? Close the curtains and think slowly. This is our second dance… I'll be looking forward to the results."

With a beep, the voice cuts off.

_The second dance. _Naomi faintly recalls those words she had seen before: _Dance for me, Corpse Whisperer._

This is a trap.

"I can't believe I fell for that." Naomi says, eyes wide, panic in her voice. "The door's locked." She tries the knob again, to no avail. "Of course, if I try to force it open, it's obvious what will happen. There isn't much time left. Even if I called for backup, they wouldn't make it." But still, she dials a few numbers on her cell phone.

Little Guy answers immediately. "D-Dr. Kimishima, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Naomi says, lying through her teeth. "I've determined the Bomber's identity."

"Huh? Then, it's-"

"Yes. Sandra Lieberman is the Raging Bomber."

"I'll send for backup immediately!" Little Guy is panicking now.

"Hey, calm down, Little Guy." Naomi says, trying to keep her voice steady.

"B-But!"

"Put out an APB on her across the entire state. Set checkpoints on the major highways. Check all stores she might use and monitor her ID and credit cards," Naomi directs fiercely.

"Right! Um… what about you, Doctor? What are you doing?"

"Little Guy!" Naomi's voice is joking, but inside, the panic builds inside of her like a monster. "A woman has to keep a little mystery!" She knows that if Little Guy knew what was happening, he would panic. And maybe have a heart attack. Or something else bad. Either way, almost losing Alyssa is bad enough; someone else doesn't have to go through the same fate.

"Huh? Oh… Okay." A very confused Little Guy answers, blushing deeply.

"Don't worry. I'll head over there soon."

"Understood. Just try not to do anything reckless, please."

"Right. Well, then." Naomi almost laughs at that. If there's anything _more_ reckless than being trapped in a room that contains four bombs that could explode any minute, she'd like to hear about it. She terminates the call.

"Now I'm alone with you." Naomi says to the Raging Bomber, wherever she is. "Four bombs, four phones. Which one of us is going to come out of this the winner?" She thinks for a moment. "The hint for the first bomb is KQJQ. Let's begin this ridiculous fatal charade."

She slowly rotates hre body, looking around the room, at the stuffed animals on the bead, the posters on the wall. This mind challenge might just as well as determine her fate. "Make "KQJQ" into an eight-digit number…" She has a feeling what the answer is. Even though any mistake could be fatal, her hunches are usually correct. "All right. Let's begin. An eight-digit number for KQJQ would be…"

Naomi takes a moment to input numbers into her phone: 13121112. She calls the number. A phone rings, and then, miraculously, the number "1" phone on the desk blinks off. "That's right. In a suit of cards, K is for King, Q is for Queen, and J for Jack." She sighs with relief. "The first bomb's been deactivated. Let's move on to the next."

As if on cue, the Raging Bomber's voice fills the speakers, emanating out into the room. "Oh, you solved my first bomb. Was that a little too easy? I think you understand the rules by now. Let's get to the second bomb. Here's another hint for you. I've tried to deactivate it from a phone in this room once. That's my hint!" Sandra Lieberman laughs. "I've left an essential question on the mirror. I hope you come to see it, too." The voice stops.

Naomi frowns. 'What did she mean? There's a phone in the corner…" She walks over to the old-fashioned cradle phone. "The Bomber must have used this phone to deactivate the bomb before. She also mentioned the mirror…" Naomi's reflection in the full-length mirror stares back at her. "The Bomber said she left a question on the mirror, but I'll have to solve one problem at a time." She tries using her spray to determine if any trace of anything is on the mirror. It comes out negative. "Hm…No, there's nothing on the mirror." Naomi thinks. "'I hope you come to see it, too.' Does that imply some sort of trick is needed here?" Naomi tries fingerprint powder, and, outlined in blue from the powder, the message appears. "The Bomber must have written this on the mirror with her finger. Let's see what this says."

Naomi reads:

_The sum of the first four is five._

_They are led by the largest._

_The sum of the last four is eleven. _

_The smallest leads._

_What are they?_

"Hm. So those are talking about the first four and last four digits of an eight-digit number. Those clues alone aren't enough to help me come up with a single answer." Naomi remembers the other part of the Bomber's clue. "She was able to deactivate the bomb from this phone once before. It's a very old phone. There's no way to see what numbers have been dialed on it. But… is it possible to figure out the numbers she had been dialing another way?"

And… there. When Naomi uses fingerprint powder, fingerprints are revealed on certain digits of the buttons. "Hm. The only fingerprints are on the 1, 2, and 3 buttons. That means only these numbers make up the code to deactivate the bomb." Ready to deactivate the next bomb, Naomi picks up her phone. _21112333, _she dials. The phone on the bomb rings… and winks out. "That's right. If I use only the numbers 1, 2, and 3, this is the only possible solution. The bomb has been deactivated. Moving onto the next."

The Bomber's voice comes through the speakers automatically. "Good, good! You've deactivated the second one! The next hint is scattered about the room like the stars themselves. Could you find all of them? Think about how they're arranged, as well! Bye-bye… I wish you good luck!"

Naomi frowns. "Scattered about the room… like the stars themselves? What is that supposed to mean? This isn't going to be easy." But, while looking around the room, Naomi hits on the answer.

There's a poster hanging on the wall of the solar system; perhaps it was put up on purpose, perhaps the Raging Bomber liked looking at stars. Either way, the Raging Bomber is underestimating Naomi.

Having learned her lesson with the fingerprints, Naomi starts out with luminol; the Bomber putting stuff in blood is just too likely to ignore. She sprays basically the entire room, and shines the ALS everywhere. Only eight reactions are found.

Under the mirror. On a column near the window. Under where the pliers and wrenches hang. On the wall underneath the posters below the solar system one. Under the table that holds the four bombs. On the white column in the middle of the room. On the bed. On the carpet beside the bed.

Each has an astrological symbol and a number. Naomi frowns at the signs she had found: Mars with a five, Uranus with a nine, everything up to Venus with a four...

_What if I tried putting these in order of the planets...?_

Cautiously, Naomi begins deactivating, praying that it will be right. She dials numbers: 34158693.

The phone rings eerily, and the lighted screen fades.

"Yes," says Naomi, the merest trace of a smile playing at her lips. "If I use the order of the planets to enter the numbers, I'll have the answer. That's the third bomb. Let's keep going."

"Huh. Amazing." The Bomber sounds almost surprised. "I went through all this trouble, and only one bomb remains. But how about the last problem? I'll test your calculation skills. Imagine two rows of numbers. Similar, yet different. 7 on one side is 1 on the other. 3 on one is 9 on the other. But 5 remains 5." The Bomber says in a sing-song tone. "Now then, what would 89476231 be? Oh, yes... I've left a calculator for you near the fourth bomb. Use it as you wish. Now hop to it!"

"Test my calculation skills?" Naomi quotes, puzzled. "I need to figure out what she means by that. She said that there was a calculator here, but how am I supposed to use it?" She thinks for a while. "Two rows of numbers that are similar but different. 7 is 1, 3 is 9, and 5 remains 5. What does 89476231 become? The Bomber said I could use the calculator, but there's nothing to calculate. Perhaps the clue is in the fact that the calculator's here at all."

She sighs, tired of this pointless game, but this is the last one. "All right. Let's begin." She presses the buttons on her phone. _23416897_. And… the final bomb clicks off.

"That's right. The numbers on a calculator are arranged differently than the numbers on a phone," Naomi sighs with relief. "I've deactivated all the explosives the Bomber was talking about."

Then, a voice comes over the speakers. "Bravo! It looks like I lose. In the end, all my bombs were deactivated. All right, I'll open the door. Do as you please from there. Bon voyage, Corpse Whisperer!"

Naomi is suspicious. "The Raging Bomber admitted defeat? Really? Would she be that honorable? The door does seem to be unlocked, but this seems to simple. I don't trust this. I should look around a little more." And when she does, she gets a shock. There, sitting on the bed… having failed to notice it before, but it's so similar, the image will never be erased from her mind.

"It's the same kind of bear that was in the package meant for me." Naomi tears open the fabric. And there, sitting inside a cushion inside the fluff of the stuffed animal's insides, is a mechanism. A bomb."

"I thought as much. I know you all too well, Bomber. If I'd just opened the door right now, I'm sure that bear would have exploded." She examines the bomb. "On the left is a transmitter, and on the right…the bomb. It goes off when it receives a specific signal. If I can separate the transmitter from the explosive, the bomb will be deactivated. The question is: which cable do I cut to deactivate the bomb? Only one cable is real, and reaches the bomb. That means the rest of them are decoys. Cutting the correct line will disconnect the bomb. If I make a mistake…it's all over." She frowns. "There's a note underneath. It looks like a pattern regarding the cables. This is the last battle of wits between us, Raging Bomber. Let's start this."

Naomi stares at the little arrows on the note for a solid minute, feeling the time tick past. Finally, she traces the wire backwards, reversing the arrow directions, which leads to the other end of the bomb, with three wires emitting from it. The line Naomi is following leads to the yellow wire.

She cuts it.

A tense moment, a click, and… "It… didn't go off. I win," Naomi smiles. "Raging Bomber, or, should I say, _Sandra Lieberman,_ your fortress of lies has collapsed. It's time to face me."

Naomi's phone gives off an insistent beep, as if on cue. Naomi answers: "Kimishima. What's the matter, Little Guy?"

"D-Dr. Kimishima!" Little Guy's voice is panicked. "It's her! She's made a move!"

"You've found the Bomber!" _In under ten minutes?_ Naomi is incredulous, but there's no time for marvelling now. "Where is she?"

"She's in southern New Hampshire and is headed west! We've confirmed that her credit card was used at a gas station!"

"A credit card…" Naomi puzzles over this.

"HQ's sending helicopters in pursuit right now!" Little Guy continues.

"_No_, Little Guy!" Naomi yells into the phone. "Recall those helicopters!"

"Huh? Why?" he gapes.

"The Bomber knew I was coming for her. She's obviously aware that we know her identity," Naomi lets all this out in one breath, talking fast.

"Wait, so you mean…" The pieces click in Little Guy's mind.

"Calm down. What's in the direct opposite direction of the station the card was used at?" Naomi prompts.

"Uh… Nothing, that I can see…" He trails off. "But if you follow the road the other way, it'll lead to Portland Airport."

"Portland Airport… that's it!"

"Huh?"

"Hey, Little Guy. Wasn't the First Lady scheduled to visit Portland soon?"

"Huh? Th-that's right…"

"When is she arriving? Tell me!" Naomi says hurriedly.

"A-About an hour from now." Little Guy realizes what he just said, and panic is edging into his voice as well.

"I knew it!" Naomi says. "Tell the local police, immediately!"

"Do you think…" Little Guy's voice is horrorstricken.

Naomi mimics the Bomber. "_I'm on my way to give a wonderful present to the world's most famous lady… _The Bomber meant…"

"Then…" Little Guy breathes, his voice catching in his throat.

"The Bomber is targeting the First Lady. The airport needs to be locked down, right now!" Naomi shouts into the phone.

"Got it!" Little Guy responds. "I'll send bomb squads there as well!"

"I'll need a helicopter here, too. I'm going to that airport!" _To make atonement… for the lives lost._

"Y-Yes Ma'am!" Little Guy answers, already sending the orders out hurriedly, multitasking.

"Raging Bomber…" Naomi scowls in disgust. "How many people have to die before you're finally satisfied?" she yells at the room.

* * *

A few minutes later, the black, unmarked FBI helicopter arrives. As they speed towards the Portland Airport, the pilot tells her what's been going on. "The airport's locked down! The EOD squad's handling the bomb!"

"Where's the bomber!" Naomi yells over the noise of the helicopter rotors. "Have they caught her yet?"

"Not yet! She's holed up inside a gate with a hostage!"

Naomi's eyes widen. She wills the helicopter to move even faster. "She's got explosives! This could turn into a catastrophe!"

The pilot makes a call on his radio. "Alpha Team, did you hear that! The target is armed with explosives! Do not engage! I repeat! Do not engage until we have arrived there!" As if they didn't know yet.

A few minutes, which seem like hours for Naomi, and a harrowing helicopter ride later, they arrive at the Portland Airport. Naomi walks in on a scene almost from a video game. Policemen pointing their guns at a woman, who in turn holds a gun to a hostage's head.

"Help me! Please!" the hostage manages to get out before the bomber brings her arm around the hostage's neck, choking her.

"Hold it," A gruff police officer says. "Just calm down. Don't do anything stupid," he says to the Bomber, but there's obviously tension in his voice.

"Everybody stay back, okay? We don't want any messy surprises." The familiar tones from the recordings in Sandra Lieberman's house come from the mouth of a tall, red-haired woman. Her long hair is wild and messy. Her black-lipsticked lips form a smile, as if she's enjoying this. Her yellow eyes seem unnaturally bright, but somehow hollow.

Naomi and Little Guy race over to the police barricade. They stare at the scene in horror.

"Tell me what's going on." Little Guy says. "Any change?"

"It's not good." One of the police officers responds. "She's not willing to negotiate!"

"She's got the whole plane hostage." Little Guy sighs. "This is going to be tough."

The Raging Bomber's eyes narrow. "Oh? Is that you, 'Corpse Whisperer'?"

"What do you want?" Naomi calls over the glass-walled room, angrily, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Did you like my present?" Sandra Lieberman says, smiling. "Was it fun? I sure was excited!" The Bomber sighs. "I heard the little girl took your place." She puts on a mock pitying tone. "Blasted into cute li'l bits…" The eyes widen again, staring out at the green-carpeted terminal, and the FBI agents waiting to arrest her. She gives an inane laugh, bubbling up from within her. "Wish I was there to see it!"

"You crazy bitch! Listen to me!" Little Guy yells, having lost his temper. He knows what this woman has done, and he wants her to pay for it.

But Naomi, eyes narrowed in a hostile, dangerous frown, steps in front of him.

"Unfortunately for you, the girl is going to be saved." She says, getting a hold on her anger. "And _you_ will be arrested." Naomi continues in a quieter tone. "That is how I'll atone."

Sandra Lieberman frowns. "I'm not going to be stopped by someone like you! Look!" Her voice reaches a dangerous level. She pulls open her coat, revealing rows of explosives strapped to her body. Quietly, Sandra almost whispers. "It's…Rosalia." Then, in a louder voice, a yell, she continues. "_Rosalia will kill everyone! Me, you, everyone here'll die_!"

Naomi frowns, her eyes growing wide in spite of her brows pressing in. "Rosalia?" She remembers the words etched on the floor in blood at Veronica Cage's house. "Wait, what is that?"

_I had thought this case wouldn't end in mentality...! But here it is again... Rosalia... what is Rosalia?_

The Raging Bomber opens her mouth, gives a long, evil laugh. But then, it cuts off. The eyes show panic. "A-Aaaaaagh!" A long, drawn-out cry of pain issues from Sandra Lieberman's mouth. The eyes stare at nothing, truly hollow now, like a zombie's.

Naomi gasps. "Huh?"

"Something's wrong." A policeman says, rather obviously. "It doesn't' look good."

The Raging Bomber is swaying on her feet now, eyes blank and empty, gasping for air. She drops the hostage, who collapses on the floor.

"Rush her! Capture her!" The policemen race towards the lean frame of the woman who has caused so many lives to be snuffed out. Her hand goes limp… dropping the activator for the explosives. Naomi's cold blue eyes meet the yellow, bloodshot, panic-stricken eyes of the Raging Bomber. In that moment of silence, where time stands still for both of them, something happens. The eyes start to fade. A fluid leaks out of them. _Blood?_ It _is_ blood. Blood leaks out of Sandra Lieberman's nose and mouth, too, dripping down her face in long, thin streams. Then, her eyes go completely dark and empty. Her mouth, contorted in one final grimace, slackens.

Naomi, still fixated in the gaze of Sandra Lieberman, does not notice the activator hit the floor. Does not notice Little Guy, making a desperate dive to save her from the oncoming explosion. Naomi still stares at those blank, sightless eyes. With a _clank_ that seems too loud for an object of that size, the activator hits the floor. With a white flash, the bombs strapped to the Raging Bomber explode. A black, red, and yellow cloud of smoke and fire expands to fill the room. Gradually, it fades away, but leaving behind the horrifying aftershock of it all. Naomi, saved from the majority of the debris and explosion by Little Guy, sits up from where she was thrown to the floor. She stares at the spot where Sandra Lieberman used to stand.

"Doctor! Are you all right?" Little Guy asks, following Naomi's gaze.

"Yes." Naomi answers shakily.

"I'm taking command here. You get back to CIFM. Got it?" Little Guy orders. Naomi still stares at the devastation before her. "Williams, over here! Take care of Dr. Kimishima!" Little Guy calls.

Naomi's cold eyes stare at the destruction. "Rosalia…what in the world?"

* * *

Welcome back to this 10,058-world chapter! :) It was 8200 when it first started out but I beefed it up to above 10000. :P

Aya wrote this chapter, as usual, and amazing as always! Guys, I'm gonna warn you: get ready for a mass chapter update, okay?

Da next chapter in the chronological version is "Maria: IV: Hesitant Spirit". Too lazy to put the number; figure it out yourself.

~fk


	43. Naomi: Epilogue: Journey's End

**EPILOGUE  
**_Journey's End_

In the hospital room, Naomi crouches by Alyssa's side, and although night has fallen outside, the room is as bright as ever. Naomi tells a story, a childish one, true, but it's to entertain Alyssa; over the last few days, she has sprung from an annoying neighbor to a sweet girl who had aided in the case of Alma Parker... and was blown up in the case of the Raging Bomber. Naomi feels that she needs to seek atonement for the sins she had committed... perhaps this is the first step in doing so.

"And then what happened?" Alyssa asks eagerly.

"The princess said, 'Please, you have to get me away from here before the moon appears thirty times!'" Naomi continues, but a knock at the door interrupts her. Slowly, the door creaks open, and Little Guy walks in. The two look into each others' eyes, and Naomi slowly gets up, ushering for Alyssa to stay quiet for a few minutes.

Naomi and Alyssa step outside into the brightly lit corridors of Resurgam First Care, its orange walls blazing with the yellow light coming from above.

"Did you find anything?" Naomi asks quietly, yet briskly all the same.

"No," Little Guy sighs. "She had no connections to anyone named Rosalia." By _she_, anyone can guess that Little Guy meant Sandra Lieberman – the Raging Bomber.

"I see." Naomi turns her back onto Little Guy, facing the door to the hospital room. "What about Alyssa? Has anyone been found to take her in?"

"No," says Little Guy, feeling that he knows where this is going. "It seems that she doesn't have any living relatives."

"What's going to... happen to her?"

"Once she recovers, she'll be sent to an orphanage," says Little Guy grimly, and swivels around to stride to the exit of Resurgam.

"Hey, Agent," says Naomi hastily, reaching out an arm to stop him. _Agent. _She had called him Agent, not Little Guy. Nevertheless, he knows what Naomi's up to, no matter what his name is.

"Not a chance," he snorts. "HQ would never allow that."

"I know," says Naomi. "But I'm talking business here."

"Business?"

"I've upheld my end of the deal," says Naomi, cocking her head. "I want payment. Your case is solved. I want my reward to be custody of Alyssa."

"A-Are you serious?" Little Guy stammers. "But... your health."

_He was there... he knows... _Naomi takes a deep breath. "I know. My flame will go out at any moment. Once I'm gone, the FBI will be fully responsible for her."

"Dr. Kimishima, do you really think they'll agree?" he gasps angrily, and inside the room, Alyssa Breslin hears him, her frail body slouching downwards.

"When Alyssa was about to die, I was angry with myself," Naomi scowls, shoving her face into Little Guy's. "I hated being powerless... I've never felt it before. I'm human. That girl is the one who finally made me realize it. I dragged her into this. I owe it to her to make her happy."

"... I'll see what I can do." Little Guy tries to escape from Naomi's wrath one more time, but with no avail. With two quick strides, she catches up to him, grabbing him by the collar, just as she had done that day they were reunited for that locked-room mystery case...

"Thank you, Agent," says Naomi, holding tightly to his tie, jerking his head upwards. "That is a nice tie you're wearing."

"Sheesh," he mutters. "Who's the one risking his neck for this again?"

Naomi releases him and walks away, but Little Guy doesn't chase after her, merely stands there, looking at her silver hair sway as she walks. "You know, I've always been wrapped around your little finger."

Ignoring him, though, Naomi walks back to Alyssa's room in a daze, but when she arrives there, Alyssa has made it clear that she knows everything. Her twig arms poke up and wrap themselves around Naomi's body, and from then on, Naomi knows that everything will be alright.

* * *

That brings an end to Naomi's Story! *smiles*

From now on, the next chapters will all be Patient Zero, referred to as a simple PZ. Like PZ: Prologue: Patient Zero, PZ: I: So Begins Death, etc. There's just not enough space to fit in all of Patient Zero, so we just shortened it. :) Cheers!

Next chapter chronologically: "CR-S01: Epilogue: Go In Peace, Sinner". Figure out the number yourself.

~fk


	44. PZ: Prologue: Patient Zero

**PROLOGUE  
**_Patient Zero_

Even in the darkest nights, the glittering wings of the Monarch butterfly always lights up the black, but with it, spreads the deadly disease it holds.

Now, this particular butterfly has been migrating from Mexico all the way to Portland… and it rests on the railings of a train station, blissfully unaware of the fact that it had just spread death on golden wings as it falls to the ground in the abandoned cells the butterfly had shed.

And the night slowly gives way to day as the sun conquers the moon. Slowly, light is granted to the world, chasing away all the darkness from every nook and cranny… but no matter how bright the day is, it cannot repel the pandemic.

The dawn breaks into a glorious morning as a train pulls into the station, beautifully painted blue, red, silver, and white. Its sudden screech as the brakes activates scares off the still fluttering Monarch, and it flies away, perching somewhere else in the world. And the train falters to a stop and the doors open.

Assortments of different people get off, still calling on their cell phones, playing with their handheld games, or reading. Businessmen in crisp suits, fashion models in fancy dresses, and commoners all scatter in every direction. It seems as though the train is empty… but it's not.

One woman, dressed in a mournful gray, staggers to the door, her mouth wide open in a scream no one can hear. Her eyes, pupils dilated twice or even three times their normal size, shine upwards, as if praying that the heavens can hear her mute scream. She puts one hand on the doors of the train, to support herself, but while she may be standing, the illness has taken over.

Blood, some droplets shimmering red, some dark and ghastly as it runs down her pale skin. Streams of it pour from the nose, the eyes, the corners of her mouth; and finally, her own strength ebbs away as she releases the door and keels onto the gravel below.

She falls, facedown on the ground, and a pool of blood surrounds her feeble body, as if claiming yet another victim to this dreadful disease.

* * *

Well... this is creepy.

Chronological order? You're kidding, right? All of Patient Zero _is _in chronological order! So just press "Next Chapter" and boom, you're good.

Still unsure...? Fine. The next one is So Begins Death. (That's a great OST, by the way).

~fk


	45. PZ: I: So Begins Death

**CHAPTER ONE  
**_So Begins Death_

Maria Torres

"A _ghost?"_

The cacophony of Hank, Esha, and Darnell's voices join together to create a shout, screaming in Maria's face.

"So, you're saying these accidents are this girl's fault?" Esha continues, incredulous.

"Hmm…" Hank grunts, "That's an unscientific conclusion."

"I never said any of that stuff was her fault!" Maria protests. It's early in the morning, and she had just told the doctors in front of her about her visions of Rosalia, how she would show up… and whisper those words… "But she did say something about… a beginning."

"Right, but what's beginning?" Darnell asks foolishly.

"UGH!" Maria screams. "How should I know?" Impatience begins to settle over her. _Why can't these people just get it?_

"It's rather hard to believe this all of a sudden," Hank mumbles.

"Ghosts do exist."

Hank, joined by the company of Maria, Esha, and Darnell, whirl around to find a stranger walking into the conference room, talking as she strides in slowly, as if trying to increase the dramatic effect of her arrival.

"Illusions are more likely to be seen in times of deep stress," the new arrival continues, "Like a desert caravan seeing an oasis. You want to see it."

The newcomer, somewhat familiar to Maria, has silver hair flying in an invisible breeze, tied up. Her pale blue eyes flash ominously, as if telling a ghost story, which she is. Her black-and-red dress somehow only makes her look more mysterious and creepy than she should've looked, for it gives off the faint impression of a ghost herself. And suddenly, realization flashes to Maria's head: a crying woman, a burned girl, the desperate look in their eyes…

"You," the paramedic whispers, "I remember you from that bombing…"

"I believe I haven't introduced myself yet," says the woman. "I'm Naomi Kimishima, a researcher at CIFM."

"And… Naomi?" the chief asks hesitantly, "What did you mean earlier?"

"In other words, the ghosts exist," says Naomi patiently, "For those who see them. In the viewer's mind, that existence is an undeniable truth."

"So that means we need to give Maria some time off," says Hank dumbly.

"Uh-oh," Esha laughs gently. "Have I been working her too hard?"

"Damn it!" Maria swears, "Stop making fun of me!" She turns back to Naomi, "In any case, you're…!"

Naomi is taller than Maria by at least a head, and she uses that to her advantage as she leans into the glowering face of the furious paramedic. "You are the only one who can know the truth you saw. You should at least remember that."

In the midst of Naomi and Maria's superstitious talk, Emma comes hammering down the corridor, screaming for the chief.

"What is it?" Esha asks.

"Dispatch is calling for paramedics to get to Portland!" Emma gasps, her face filled with worry, and her amber eyes shine in emergency from behind her glasses. "A lady's passed out in the Transit Center! She's bleeding out!"

"Hank and Maria, get there!" Esha orders immediately, without hesitation, and breaks up Maria and Naomi's talk instantly. "Emma, Darnell, prep the O.R.!"

"Roger that!" Maria cries.

"Understood," says Hank simultaneously, and the two run off.

* * *

"We're from Resurgam First Care!" Maria pants, arriving on scene. "Give me a status report!"

"I-I don't know!" one man cries, intimidated by the fierce scowl Maria wears on her face. "The train arrived… and she collapsed!"

"Tch," Maria sighs. "No help here, then… oh well…"

Hank runs forwards, shuffling through the woman's purse. "I've got an ID!" he shouts. "Jennifer Blair, a 32-year-old woman. It seems she boarded this train in Boston for business."

"Check her record for chronic diseases!" Maria commands with absolute authority. "I'm treating her!"

But that authority quickly evaporates to the storm of incoming Monarchs as Maria sees black bruises around the patient's neck, covering half the surface of the skin around it, in a shape almost like fingers, as if it's trying to grasp Jennifer Blair's neck and wringing it with its curly fingertips, squeezing all the life out of it.

"What the hell?" Maria mutters. "I've never seen anything like this!"

"Maria!" Hank calls. "We've got word in the dispatch center. The paramedics will be late!"

"What?" Maria spits in frustration. _Late? How? _"We need more people right now! Have them send a helicopter or something!"

"There's been a tunnel accident somewhere else!" Hank informs her. "We'll have to keep people stable until they arrive!"

"Dammit! What a pain!"

"Anyway, let's examine the patient," Hank rushes, trying not to get Maria too mad. "We have to at least give them first aid!"

"All we can do is to keep their vitals stable, though," Maria sighs. But before she can even touch the stabilizer, Blair begins to shake dangerously.

"What… Convulsions?" Maria breathes. "I don't get this at all…"

Never in Maria's lifetime of first aid has she seen a condition like this; so fatal, so perilous, it can steal away the essence of life in a few seconds. Despite that, Maria still manages to shoot in stabilizer, raising vitals up to sixty.

"She's doing a little better at the moment," she says. "Are the paramedics here yet?"

"Excuse me!" another man screams. "Another person's fallen ill over there!"

"I can't leave this area… bring him over here!" Maria orders, and Hank runs off.

When he returns, carrying the limp patient, Maria immediately notices the same patch of bruises on the left forearm, covering almost half of its area, slowly gripping death into its black claws. "Wh-What? This one has the bruises, too? Is it the same condition?"

Nevertheless, she raises vitals to 60, like before, and shouts to the patient: "Hey, are you awake? If you can hear me, say something!"

"Th-This is terrible! There's another customer vomiting blood!"

"Maria, this isn't good," Hank warns her. "Something's not right!"

"I know that!" she snaps. "All we can do is treat what we can right now. Line the patients up!"

The third, fourth, and fifth patient arrives. "Dammit, him too?"

The third patient also has the familiar black bruise on his right forearm.

"Wha-what the hell happened to her?" Maria demands, for the fourth patient has blood all over her clothes… and glass in her stomach and chest.

"She suddenly ran amok and slammed through a display window!" Hank answers. "I don't know what triggered it, but she's in critical condition!"

"This hemorrhaging bad… I'm gonna start with hemostasis first!"

The fifth patient has fractured arms and legs… lacerations… cuts… glass… blood… vitals… bruises… Maria is caught in a frenzy and madness of things, as vitals drop everywhere.

"Just you wait… you will live! I am making sure you walk out of this alive, no matter what!"

"Maria, we just got word that they've arrived!" Hank suddenly calls. "We can start transporting patients!"

"It's about damn time!" Maria cries in relief, wrapping up the splint on her final patient. "Tell them to get their asses in gear!"

"Er, right," says Hank, though it's obvious that he'll avoid swearing at the paramedics. "We'll get these people out of here now!"

"It's over," she sighs. "This seriously scared the crap out of me…"

* * *

"Okay, I'll leave the rest to you," says Maria wearily, her green eyes losing their lively spark. She turns towards the paramedics; "Was that the last one?"

Instead of the paramedics, she finds a man, dressed in the train station's uniform, presumably a crewmember. He doesn't talk, merely staggers towards Maria in that limp she recognizes…

"Hey, you! We're not sure if it's over, but the people are…" Maria's voice wavers and trails off. "Hey, what's wrong?"

The man collapses with the linger of blood in the air as he vomits up the red stuff in large volumes.

"S-Someone get over here!" Maria cries. "Hank!"

_It just never ends…_

* * *

"I don't know what's going on, but this isn't normal!" Maria screams into the phone. "Call up the CDC! Have 'em declare a state of emergency!"

"We already did!" says the chief on the other end. "It's also in Peaks and Chebeague! We can't explain it! Listen up! Once your backup has arrived, immediately…"

The rest of Esha Patel's orders are cut off when the busy dial tone echoes in Maria's ears.

"Huh? Tch… it got cut off!"

"Maria! I need a hand!" Hank booms somewhere in the distance.

"Yeah, I'll be right there!" Maria calls back frantically, and runs off into the crowd of collapsed patients, tired paramedics, and the gravel slick with the taint of blood as they mix among each other… The station has turned into a first aid area, for the amount of patients has increased up to the dozens, perhaps even the hundreds, as they all slip to death's door…

* * *

Nothing like a good ol' First Resp op to start off a good ol' story. :) Patient Zero rocks.

Now, if you complain that this is short, just wait for Missing Girl, the last First Response chapter. It's... long. The operation had 13 patients (would've been 14) and let's just say that it's about three times longer than the rest of it.

Chronologically? Read the footnote for Patient Zero's prologue.

~fk


	46. PZ: II: Proud One

**CHAPTER TWO  
**_Proud One_

Gabriel Cunningham

"Assistant Secretary, we've brought the doctor."

"All right."

Gabriel Cunningham crosses his arms and glares at Jacob Tillman, but speaks nothing. Who knows what kind of security the old geezer's bodyguards will have? Even so, the cameras around Gabe are focusing onto him every second, and behind the translucent walls, Gabe is sure that more people watch him carefully.

"Welcome to USAMRIID," says Tillman, without a hint of emotion in his voice, lacking even that familiar stubbornness and coldness. "Long time no see."

"So you're behind this," says Gabe darkly. "I knew something was odd. I don't do house calls anymore. What do you want from me?"

Tillman says nothing, merely raises a hand, and one man lifts the cover on top of a small table Gabe hadn't noticed before. On the green surface is a transparent glass case, and inside it… are _bones?_

"These human remains were found a week ago in Backcove," Tillman grunts.

"Backcove?" Gabe asks in surprise. "The one in Portland? That's pretty close. So, what? Are we going to a funeral or something?"

"They were unusual, so I was having them investigated here," says Tillman. "But the researcher began showing some bizarre symptoms."

"_Bizarre?" _Gabe quotes anxiously.

"That's why you're here," says Tillman. "I want to know everything we can."

Gabe gives a huge sigh. "Do you politicians always think you can get your own way? Sell your nonsense to someone else. I'm going home."

"I'll pay whatever you ask, and get you anything you need!" Tillman cries frantically, trying to stop the diagnostician from walking out the door, and although he has armies of men awaiting his orders, he doesn't use them, in fear that Gabe really will walk away.

Gabe, now, doesn't really care about the reward awaiting him, but delves deeper into the logic instead. Is Tillman really that insistent and that curious…? "Is it that serious?"

Tillman's gaze drops by a shade and all his fierceness is flushed away. "Yes," he sighs in bitter defeat.

"All right," Gabe sighs, stopping in front of the chest of bones. "I don't have anything special to ask for." His gaze sweeps through the translucent glass walls, so familiar to Resurgam's, but those are green, not blue like the ones in USAMRIID. The gaze falls on a slouched man sitting behind the walls. "Is that the patient?"

"That's right," says Tillman, and then holds out some protective gear. "Wear this during your examination."

"Oh, great, a mask," says Gabe sarcastically. "I feel so safe now, I could just cry."

"If it was airborne, there would be a lot more patients to see," Tillman scowls. "We've also prepared this for you as well."

One man wheels in a familiar object, clean and flawless, and Gabe's mouth drops in shock.

"Good morning, Dr. Cunningham."

There it is, proud and basking in the light of glory once more, is RONI, her screen flickering to life as that familiar blue pulse surrounds her screen.

"You gotta be kidding me," Gabe whispers, astonished. "What's this doing here?"

"Didn't you know? The government developed these," Tillman snorts. "There are more units than just the one you worked with. It's had the data from Resurgam copied into it. Problems?"

"Sheesh…" So that means this RONI can also say _to hell with that. _"Now I see why taxes are so high here…"

"Did you have something else to add?" Tillman asks, eager to stray away from the topic of taxes.

"Nope, not a word," says Gabe. "Let's get this diagnosis under way."

**+++PHASE ONE+++**

"Mask and gloves for a diagnosis, huh?" Gabe sighs, putting on the gear as instructed. "What's going on?"

"No information is available," says RONI. "Positive diagnosis unavailable."

"Well, duh," Gabe rolls his eyes. "We haven't even met the patient yet."

"I'm sorry, Doctor," says RONI. "It is my duty to answer your queries."

"The fact that you've gotten smarter is even more irritating," Gabe scowls.

"Was that a compliment?" RONI asks. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Screw this," Gabe mutters darkly. "I'm getting this over with. Hurry up."

"Yes, Doctor. Beginning the diagnosis.

Gabe strides through the door, feeling like a dork with his clumsy mask. Yet, he still spots the tall, muscular patient, Samuel Trumbull. "At ease, soldier! So you're pretty young… what's your name?"

The man doesn't talk.

"Huh? What's wrong? Don't tell me, are you having trouble speaking?"

"Er… No, Sir. I just haven't been ordered to cooperate with you yet."

"Are you serious?" Gabe asks, though frankly, he already knows the patient's name from the charts. "You can't even tell me your name without a direct order?"

"Doctor, one soldier acting on his own can throw a wrench into the entire machine."

"A wrench, huh? Well, all right then… I mean, we can't have tools flying all over, can we? Hey, RONI, call that fat-ass S.O.B. up right now! Tell him to hurry up and give this man some orders!"

"Understood, Doctor," RONI sighs. "Please wait a while."

"Looks like I've got no choice but to examine what I can for now," Gabe mutters. That means a visual examination, like the way he had done before with Jacob Tillman.

"Hmm… left eyelid seems to be hanging unnaturally low…" Gabe observes. "RONI, this might be worth noting."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Blepharoptosis."_

Now, Gabe is very thankful that this RONI has the information from Resurgam stored on it, because he wouldn't want _congratulations! You have blepharoptosis _butting into his diagnosing session, or Samuel Trumbull really wouldn't talk, would he?

"Well, the fingertips are unusually swollen… RONI, write that one down."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Swollen Fingertips."_

"Well, the patient's left and right arms are different sizes," Gabe notes. "RONI, the left arm is swollen."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Swollen Arm."_

"Hey, ROOOOOONI?" Gabe calls, almost motherly, "Did they give this guy permission to get cured yet?"

"Authorization appears to be incoming right now," RONI replies. "Response: _comply with the doctor's orders and cooperate with the diagnosis."_

"Finally!" Gabe cries in joy. "So how about it? Can we put this whole wrench thing behind us now?"

"Yes, Sir!" Trumbull declares, and it seems like he's resisting the urge to salute. "Awaiting your orders!"

"Look, buddy, just stop calling me Sir," Gabe laughs nervously.

"Yes, Sir!"

"…"

"Sir!" Trumbull cries again. "Commencing initial self-recon report! I have been experiencing chest pain for several days!"

"I see… so he's experiencing chest pains. RONI, let's make a note of this."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Chest Pains."_

Great. Now there are two of them with utmost politeness, calling him _Sir _and _Doctor _at every step.

"I have been coughing up bloody sputum!" Trumbull continues.

"RONI, that's definitely worth noting," Gabe orders, snapping his fingers at his computer assistant.

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Bloody Sputum."_

"I have been experiencing numbness in my left arm!" Trumbull rants off again, only to be interrupted by Gabe again.

"Numbness in the left arm, huh? That's also the one that's swollen." Gabe sighs and looks at the patient's charts. "Tell me a little more… is it just the left arm that's numb?"

"Yes, sir! That is the limit of what I have been able to ascertain."

"All right, all right," Gabe sighs, holding his hands up in protest. "Enough with the _Sir _treatment. And RONI, record the numbness."

"Yes, Sir. Understood, Sir. New symptom observed: _Numb Left Arm."_

Gabe very nearly repeats the action he took that last day at Resurgam First Care, when he sent a tornado through his office.

"That is all, Sir!" Trumbull finishes, disobeying Gabe's order twice.

"I think that's all the obvious symptoms, at least," Gabe sighs, trying to ignore the calls of _Sir _from his mind, banishing them to the darkest corners where he will never touch them again. "Chest pains and bloody sputum… it could be a respiratory disease. RONI, I wanna do an X-ray on him. And the numbness in his arm worries me. Could be something in his head. Let's do an MRI."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, reverting back to her old form of _Doctor. _"The X-ray and MRI examinations are now available."

Gabe, sighing in relief, finds his way to the Image Analysis Room in this alien place. Sure enough, the X-ray and MRI images are ready for him, and as expected, something is very wrong.

"The collarbone overlaps with the upper portion of the lung at this position," Gabe quietly whispers. "RONI, it's a tumor shadow."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI obediently. "New symptom observed: _Tumor Shadow on the Lung."_

"This should help our diagnosis," says Gabe. "Let's head to our work space and narrow down the candidates."

The two, such an odd pair, run down the corridors to their cramped office. Cramped or not, though, the symptoms are still found easily.

"These symptoms point to a Pancoast tumor," Gabe gasps in astonishment, and then glances down at the bottom of the article:

_A sputum cytology will show a positive result for malignant tumor cells._

"RONI, I need a sputum cytology done," Gabe orders. "We need to examine the cells in his sputum and check for a malignant tumor reaction."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "We should return to the exam room."

Gabe nods in agreement, and walks solemnly back to the exam room, mirrored by faint reflections of himself in the translucent turquoise walls. He delivers the bad news as if giving a death sentence.

"Thank you for your hard work, Doctor," says Trumbull softly, with no hint of despair or hopelessness in his voice.

"C'mon, stop being so uptight," says Gabe sharply. "There's no need for all this formal nonsense."

"P-Pardon me, Sir!" Trumbull stammers.

"It's all right," Gabe sighs. "So will you cooperate with the sputum exam?"

"Yes, Sir!" says Trumbull, taking aback, as if shocked by the very possibility that he won't. "Of course!"

"Good, that'll help," says Gabe. "RONI, send it for analysis."

"Understood. I will let you know when the results come back."

"Well then… all that's left is to wait for those results," says Gabe. "I was nervous what could possible be wrong with him, but looks like I'll make it back for dinner."

"Um… Doctor?" Trumbull asks hesitantly. "May I attach an addendum to my initial symptoms report?"

"Of course," says Gabe generously. "Tell me anything you can."

"The pain in my chest has just begun to increase in magnitude," he whispers.

"Hmm…" Gabe ponders over this, debating over what to do, finally coming to a decision: "It'll be a while until the test results come back. Let's see what may be causing that."

"I-I'm sorry to trouble you, Sir!" Trumbull cries, but then adds, "Thank you."

"RONI, I need another X-ray," Gabe commands. "Get it ready for me."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "Making preparations for the examination."

The X-rays come fairly quickly, and immediately, Gabe notices something wrong. "What?" he whispers in pure disbelief, "This shadowing! Wait, I've seen something like this before… RONI, do an immediate search for matching cases!"

"Understood, Doctor. One moment, please." A moment later, "One case match. It is a patient diagnosed with an illness similar to Kaposi's sarcoma at Resurgam."

_Shelly Brooks! _"If I recall, the patient went through drastic condition changes one after another… don't tell me this patient's also… Dammit, I have a bad feeling about this. Anyways, there's nothing we can do right now. We just have to wait for the lab results."

"Doctor, the results of the sputum cytology are in," says RONI. "Would you like a report?"

"Yeah!" says Gabe. "How was it?"

"The results came back positive. Malignant tumor cells were detected from the patient's sputum."

"I see," Gabe sighs. "At least we can make a decision on the disease now… I'm still worried about that shadowing on the lungs. Let's work on a diagnosis first."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Positive for Malignant Tumor Cells."_

"There's no mistake," Gabe mutters darkly, a hint of evil casting across the depths of his voice, turning it an octave lower. "It's a Pancoast tumor. But the previous patient with that shadowing underwent unexplainable changes in her condition… we aren't through yet, RONI. I'm going to continue the diagnosis."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "Sending request for continuation of the diagnosis."

"I hope there aren't any unpleasant surprises here," Gabe murmurs.

"Comparing the lung shadow to the data from Resurgam," says RONI, not even paying attention to Gabe's words. "This current data is a 40% match."

"Damn," Gabe swears under his breath, "That's not encouraging. Let's start the diagnosis."

**+++PHASE TWO+++**

"Now… just as I thought…" Gabe lifts the veil on the sorry truth to his sorry patient. "We found a tumor in your lungs. But something odd's been found too. I'm sorry, but I'll need to look into it more."

"Em…" Trumbull only gives a grunt.

"Huh?" Gabe asks. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"I… have a daughter…" Trumbull admits. "She'll be turning three this summer."

"I see," says Gabe, rushed. "Well, all the more reason to hurry your exams along. Wouldn't want to miss your daughter's birthday and have her run off with some boy, right?"

"Ahaha, of course not, Sir!" Trumbull laughs lightly, but there's still something he seems to be hiding. "R-Reporting a new symptom! As of a moment ago, my stomach has begun to hurt…"

"Abdominal pains now," Gabe takes a sharp intake of air. "The conditions of this disease may be progressing after all… RONI, record that."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Stomachache."_

"Th-That's all, Sir!" Trumbull whispers.

Gabe locks eyes with the soldier, but what he had expected to see, fear quivering in the corner of his pupils, isn't there. What is there is even more shocking…

"The whites of his eyes have become yellow…" he breathes. "It's jaundice. RONI… you know what to do."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Jaundice."_

Much too freaked out, Gabe's hands creep towards the diagnostic charts, holding them up, blocking the freakishly yellow eyes from his sight.

Total Bilirubin

_Normal: 0.2 – 1.0_

_Measured: 2.3_

"His total bilirubin level is way above average," Gabe remarks. "RONI, add that to our shopping list."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, making no sarcastic comment about the shopping list part. "New symptom observed: _High Total Bilirubin Level."_

AST

_Normal: 10.0 – 40.0_

_Measured: 139.0_

"His AST level is unusually high," Gabe comments, though _unusual _is an unusual word to describe it. _Over the top, extreme, _and _incredible _are better words. "RONI, record that symptom."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High AST Level."_

ALT

_Normal: 5.0 – 40.0_

_Measured: 97.0_

"RONI, that's not normal."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High ALT Level."_

y-GTP

_Normal: 0.0 – 50.0_

_Measured: 219.0_

"His y-GTP is abnormally high," says Gabe. "RONI, you getting all this?"

"Yes, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High y-GTP Level."_

LAP

_Normal; 20.0 – 70.0_

_Measured: 237.0_

"His LAP level is definitely beyond the average range," says Gabe. "RONI, make a note."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High LAP Level."_

PIVKA-II

_Normal: 0.0 – 40.0_

_Measured: 184.0_

"The PIVKA-II level's too high," Gabe sighs. Another symptom makes it all the worse for Samuel Trumbull, a soldier with a daughter waiting for him to come home. "RONI, make a note of it."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High PIVKA-II Level."_

AFP

_Normal: 0.0 – 10.0_

_Measured: 1327.0_

"Hm… there's an abnormality in the AFP level… RONI, record this."

Again, _abnormality _doesn't even come close to the word that should describe the 1317 difference between the normal and measured level. But, as you know, Gabe's not much for descriptive words.

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _High AFP Level."_

"Well, we've got some more things to consider," says Gabe. "Let's sort them back out at our work space."

Gabe leaves without looking at Samuel Trumbull's eyes, fearing that his fear will reflect and mirror in the confident soldier's mind. But… is he wavering and bowing down to fear as well?

Back at the lab, Gabe growls. "Now let's see if we can't find it…"

Those words quickly trail off when the answer becomes obvious. "A malignant liver tumor? Another malignant tumor… it's not fully confirmed, but I have a bad feeling."

"Doctor, would you like to send in a request for a liver examination?" RONI asks.

Gabe scans the paragraph at the bottom:

_A swollen liver can be seen from a CT exam of the abdomen, and a scintigraphy will show abnormal accumulation in the liver._

"Yeah," says Gabe. "Get me a CT and a scintigraphy. I wanna check the CT first."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "The CT examinations is now available, and I have sent a request for the scintigraphy. Please check the CT results first."

"Got it," says Gabe. "I'll head to the image analysis lab."

He does so, prepared for the worst. If the liver really is swollen… then this disease will be far worse than he has ever imagined.

"Just as I thought," Gabe sighs bleakly, looking at the second scintigraphy. "The liver's swollen. RONI, record this."

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Swollen liver."_

Gabe keeps looking faithfully. "This light shadowing… is this a tumor? RONI, collate it with your data. Check if any cases match this."

"Understood, Doctor. Beginning collation. Probability of relevant correspondence is 58%. Since it isn't a clear shadow, it's impossible to collate it further."

"Hmm…" Gabe grunts. "Too close to make a call. I'll need to double-check this with the scintigraphy after all. RONI, are they ready?"

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI. "The scintigraphy is now available."

Gabe takes one look and knows immediately that something is not right.

"_Huh?" _he breathes in shock. "The accumulation can be seen in this tumor in the liver, but this shape isn't normal…"

"Doctor, this shadowing is similar in shape to that of the one confirmed in the lungs," RONI pipes in.

"Yeah, but it isn't normal," says Gabe. "RONI, make a note in his file."

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Abnormal Acculmulation in Liver."_

"There's almost no mistake," Gabe mutters, scanning the file. "It's malignant liver tumor. But… what is that shadowing? First, it's in the lungs, and now, it's in the liver? What in the world's going on? Oh yeah, RONI. Send a progress report to the higher-ups. Our client's probably getting impatient."

"Yes, Doctor," says RONI obediently. "Would you like to continue on with the diagnosis?"

"Yeah," says Gabe, although rather reluctantly. "There's still something that doesn't add up… I have a bad feeling about this."

"Understood, Doct–" RONI's voice is suddenly cut short as another message is sent to her computer. "Doctor, we have an urgent situation. I received a report that the patient has collapsed. Please head to the examination room immediately."

"What?" Gabe yells frantically. "I'm on my way!"

**+++PHASE THREE+++**

"Shadowing in the liver, too?" Gabe mutters darkly, running to the examination room. "What the hell's going on?"

"Patient's condition has worsened. Please go to the exam room."

"Dammit…" Gabe swears as he shoves open the door. "I'm going to find out what it is no matter what!"

"Oh… Doctor…" Samuel Trumbull's weak voice comes from his feeble body.

"You don't look well," says Gabe. "I heard you collapsed. Are you all right?"

"I just… lost my balance," he says quickly, though it is rather clear that he is lying. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"No, it's fine," says Gabe quickly. "But don't strain yourself! If you don't feel well, you need to lie down and…"

"Doctor… I'm afraid of death." Trumbull's response seems so pathetic coming from the tough soldier's mouth, but his voice is filled with terror. "The fact that I might die from this… it frightens me quite a lot, Sir. I'm… a failure as a soldier!"

"Of course you're afraid, you dimwit!" Gabe laughs easily, choosing to play this the simple way. "Everyone feels that way. After all, when you die, that's it! Doctors, soldiers… everyone's afraid of dying. Now, if you understand, then turn around and look at me. Let's run some more tests."

"Doctor… I'm sorry," Trumbull whimpers softly. "I can't cooperate with the examination any longer."

"Huh?" Gabe gasps in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I was just given an order to cease all my cooperation with your diagnostics," says Trumbull, although rather sadly, too, as if he doesn't want to let Gabe go.

"What?" Gabe shouts. "That's impossible! What're you talking about?"

"He is correct, Doctor," RONI beeps annoyingly. "I have just confirmed that order. Our clearance for using the image analysis lab has been revoked as well. Pending further discussion, the army will not let us diagnose him any further."

"Well, screw that!" The renowned diagnostician finally loses his temper and patience as he hurtles from his chair in disgust. "Who gives a damn about their politics? His condition is getting worse! Are they gonna just let him die?"

"I cannot say, Doctor," says RONI obnoxiously. "However, given recent actions, that appears to be their intent."

"_What?" _Gabe forces himself to calm down, and keep his rising temper below the brim. _Don't kill the messenger…_

"Doctor, it's all right." The young soldier's calm and steady voice enters Gabe's subconscious. "if you start making a scene, you won't be safe, either. But you really tried your best to help me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

"Dammit!" Gabe only cools down a bit. "RONI, isn't there some way?"

"There is not, Doctor," is RONI's depressive reply. "I have confirmed the existence of a spyware program installed on my hard drive. Presumably, if we examine the patient further, the army's leaders will be alerted."

"Ngh!" Gabe covers his head with his hands. "Think… there's gotta be a way!"

"Dr. Cunningham, I have finished analyzing the spyware program."

"Huh?" Even after weeks with RONI, this bit of news is as shock. "You can do that?"

"I cannot delete it, but I have an understanding of its filters. The program triggers an alarm whenever it registers direct diagnostic activity."

"All right," says Gabe, not getting a word of what RONI had just said, "What're you getting at?"

"It appears that if we make idle conversation with our friend, they will not be alerted."

"Ah," says Gabe, understanding. "I see where you are going. Great job, RONI! Whoever put that spyware together sure did a great job."

"D-Doctor?" Frightened, Samuel Trumbull can barely squeak out this word. "What're you going to do?"

"Oh, nothing," says Gabe casually. "By the way, soldier, we're friends, right?"

"Huh? I-If you say so, Doctor…"

"Is that so?" Gabe raises his eyebrows in a very fake friendly voice. "Then… let's have a friendly chat, shall we? Two buddies, chewing the fat. It's not like I'm examining you or anything, right?"

"Ah… yes, S – I mean, bud!" says Trumbull, nodding slowly, befuddled on where this is going.

Gabe flashes a quick grin at RONI. _One problem down, a million more to go. Now then, I'm going to initiate a fun, little chat with my "friend" here... and of course, it's just "idle banter"... not at all an "examination" or anything clinical... That means I'll have to make sure to pay attention to everything that comes out of his mouth._

"Doc-" Trumbull starts, but is cut short quickly by, "I mean, Mr. Cunningham. Thanks for coming to chat with me. Let's see... why don't I tell you about my life in the army? We soldiers go through severe condition training every day. Because of that, even sitting still like this, sometimes my muscles hurt so bad I can barely stand it."

"Muscle pains, huh?" Gabe interrupts. "You don't say... Hey, RONI, can you jot that down? It's not important... just a memo so I remember my "friend" later."

"I would love to do that," says RONI, playing up the part nicely, though Gabe seems a bit distracted and jerked a bit astray. "Meaningless, friendly observation: _Muscle Pains."_

"Still, in order to get promoted, you have to study too," says Trumbull, apparently perfectly unaware of the havoc going around him. I try to make time at night to read the instructional materials, but just reading all that stuff gives me a headache sometimes, you know?"

"Ah, your head hurts, you say?" Gabe remarks. "Gee, I almost missed that one, clever friend of mine. RONI, would you be a dear and make a memo of that? I'd like to include it in my Christmas card this year."

"It would be my pleasure," says RONI, and she may seem like she's actually smiling, that is, if she has a mouth. Which she doesn't. "Meaningless, friendly observation: _Headache."_

"Oh, but it's not all bad," Trumbull quickly cuts in. "The meals are usually pretty good. But sometimes I feel like there isn't the right balance of ingredients in the food."

"Right balance, huh?" Gabe quotes, bemused. "Somehow, I don't think he meant the food... Still, he is my pal and all... I should make sure he's eating right. Army food's famously terrible... RONI, could you make a memo? It sure would suck if he got anemic from what they're feeding him there."

"That is awfully sociable of you," says RONI pitifully. "Meaningless, friendly observation: _Anemia."_

"Do you think the ventilation's working properly here?" Trumbull asks suddenly. "I was okay until a moment ago, but it suddenly feels really hot..."

"Feeling hot?" Gabe asks, quickly realizing that the words coming out of his mouth are going out the wrong way. "But the AC's working just fine. Perhaps my acquaintance is stricken with a fever! Wait a minute... maybe I can make use of this... I'm sorry, ol' chum, but you aren't able to cooperate with any exams, right?"

"Ah, yes," Trumbull sighs. "I'm sorry."

"So, you can't lift up your shirt and let me examine you, right?" Gabe asks, mocking disappointment. "Not even as... friends?"

"No," says Trumbull, and his voice grows more depressive by the second. "I couldn't do that."

"Well, that's too bad," says Gabe airily, waving a hand in the air. "But orders are orders, right? Nevertheless, buddy, if you feel hot in here, feel free to take your shirt off and cool down! I mean, after all, it's just us guys in here, right? The bros, eh? Just a couple o' buds..."

"What about me?" RONI asks, with an edge of both humor and seriousness in her voice. "I do not believe I am technically a bro."

"There you go again," Gabe sighs frustratedly. "Always tryin' to drive a stake between us... you're jealous of what we have..."

"Well, that's one way to do it," Trumbull mumbles. "Well, it is pretty hot in here! Maybe I will take my shirt off!"

"Go right ahead!" Gabe encourages. "No sense being uncomfortable when we're having such a pleasant conversation."

"Would you like me to make a _Fever _memo in case you wish to review this repartee at a later date?" RONI asks.

"Why, yes," says Gabe dramatically. "That would be splendid. How considerate of you to look after me and my good acquaintance here."

"Naturally, Doctor," says RONI approvingly. "It is in my programming to have a pleasant bedside manner."

"Mister, you've been a good friend," Trumbull adds in. "I trust you'll know what to do."

With that simple line, Samuel Trumbull shrugs off his shirt, his bulky muscles glistening in the white light coming from above. But what is even more standing out are two black splotches over his chest and abdomen: like ink splattered across pale skin, but more permanent and seems to have become his skin completely.

"Pigment spots?" Gabe mutters. "That's not a good color. RONI, this is very rare. Bravo to my friend here for displaying such exquisite coloring."

"I will make a memo on its rareness," RONI agrees. "Meaningless, friendly observation: _Pigment Spots on Skin."_

Gabe looks up into Trumbull's eyes. "Bloodshot eyes. I hate it when my friends have these troubles... RONI, can you jot that down? File it in one of those useless, non-medical databases."

"I know the perfect place for it," says RONI, humoring the two men. "Meaningless, friendly observation: _Bloodshot Eyes."_

"All right, we've gotten all the symp-" Gabe stops after letting half a word slip through and hastily talks about something else before RONI's alarm system starts bleeping. "I mean, Man oh man, that was a riveting discussion! RONI, I think my ol' pal needs his rest. Perhaps we should return to our work space and rest as well."

"I agree, Doctor," says RONI, and the pair leave for the office and silently go off to match the symptoms found under "Meaningless, Friendly Observations".

But no matter how hard they try, no illness matches with every symptom. Frustrated, Gabe leans back in his swivel chair, moaning in exasperation. "Dammit... I had a feeling we didn't have enough information... I'll need more if I'm going to narrow down the disease. RONI! I'm going back to the exam room! We need to get as much information as we can from the patient!"

"Doctor," RONI warns, "The army's leaders seem to be making a move. Please be careful."

Gabe nods and rushes back to the exam room, determined to end this. But when he arrives there, he finds Samuel Trumbull in a fit of coughing, both hands up to cover his mouth. The painful sounds he makes do not sound like a regular flu...

"Hey, what's the matter?" Gabe asks anxiously. "Stay with me!"

"Ah... Bud..." Trumbull sits up painfully, wincing. "I... It suddenly..."

"Tch!" Gabe runs forwards. "I need to examine you immediately! Just hang in there... breathe!"

Trumbull seems to have forgotten about the army's orders in the midst of his agony. He allows Gabe to lean forwards, not making a single attempt to stop him.

"Bloodstains near the mouth," Gabe says immediately, not even wasting a split second to turn to RONI. "Is this from him coughing up blood? RONI, there's signs of hematemesis! Make a memo immediately!"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New memo: _Hematemesis."_

Without even asking, Gabe yanks up the soldier's shirt, not even pausing for a split second to catch his breath between stages of diagnosis. And from under Trumbull's white shirt are the same pigment spots from before, but now, they have blossomed red over black, fighting for control.

"What?" Gabe gapes, mouth falling wide open at the nightmarish scene in front of him. "Hemorrhaging from the pigment spots? RONI, this isn't good!"

"Indeed, Doctor," RONI agrees heartily. "New memo: _Skin Hemorrhaging."_

"Wh-What the?" Gabe mutters, his head foggy from all the symptoms found. In the split second he had used, Trumbull leans forwards and gives a mighty cough again. He remains that way, both hands at his mouth and throat, unable to get up. A few tense seconds pass, and RONI's anxious and worried voice echoes in the glass room.

"Patient's vitals are dropping," she warns. "He is in a dangerous state."

"He's coughing up blood!" Gabe cries. "I'm halting the diagnosis! RONI, open up this section's door! Hurry and get someone..."

"My access is denied."

"What?" Gabe yells, incredulous and enraged, wrapped together in an infuriating temper of fury. "I don't care how you do it, just get this door open immediately!"

"Ugh... D-Doctor..." Trumbull somehow finds the strength to sit up. Even in Gabe's livid state, he still finds attention for the slowly but surely dying patient.

"Huh? What is it? What's the matter?"

"P-Please..." he gasps. "Keep learning what you can..."

"You idiot!" Gabe screams outrageously. "First aid is more important than that right-"

"I know I'm not gonna make it," Trumbull continues, the blood around his mouth forming his lips into an undistinguishable frown.

"What're you saying?" Gabe protests desperately. "You're gonna see your daughter, right? Then hang in there! I'll get you treated!"

"Th-They won't open the door until you're done here," Trumbull wheezes. "You've got to know that by now..." His voice has become high-pitched with tremors attacking it repeatedly and endlessly for eternity of time. "Whatever I've got, it's already spreading to the outside world! They... knew it all along!"

Gabe leans back and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, though anyone can figure out that it's impossible. "If that's the case... then that bruise was..."

"Agh..." Screaming in pain, Samuel Trumbull doubles over. "If you don't find out what this is... r-right now... it won't be just me, or my family... families everywhere will suffer! P-Please... f-find out as much as you can, while I can still help you!"

"Dammit!" Gabe curses, but agrees to it reluctantly. "All right! I'll unmask whatever you have right now! Hell, I'm sure that they'll even open the doors when I finish diagnosing you! Just don't die until then... don't you dare! RONI, I'm proceeding with the diagnosis! What next?"

"Since the circuits were cut off, I've regained a portion of the controls. Because the patient is vomiting blood, an analysis exam is possible if you take a sample of his blood."

"All right!" Happy to hear good news at long last, Gabe orders RONI with the absolute authority he has. "Get it analyzed right now!"

"Understood, Doctor. The analysis exam is now available."

Blood Pressure

_Normal: 110.0 – 140.0_

_Measured: 90.0_

"His blood pressure's low!" Gabe adds, as if the numbers can't tell the whole story. "If this keeps up... RONI, mark it down!"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI. "New symptom observed: _Low Blood Pressure."_

No more memos or observations. This is the real deal.

White Cell Count

_Normal: 4.5 – 5.5_

_Measured: 1.8_

"His white blood cell count is abnormally low! Dammit, RONI, make a record!"

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Low White Blood Cell Count."_

Fibrinogen

_Normal: 150.0 – 410.0_

_Measured: 92.0_

"Hmm... his fibrinogen level is too low! RONI, make a note!"

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Low Fibrinogen Level."_

APTT

_Normal: 30.0 – 40.0_

_Measured: 68.0_

"Ugh!" One disaster after another... "His APTT level is high! RONI, it's way above the normal range!"

"Understood, Doctor." RONI's voice doesn't share the emotion Gabe has, but she states out the facts, loud and clear. "New symptom observed: _High APTT Level."_

Platelet Count

_Normal: 15.0 – 35.0_

_Measured: 2.0_

"His platelet count is unusually low!" His face covered by a gruelling mask of fear and doubt, Gabe covers his head with his hands. _How long will this keep up? _"RONI, record that!"

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Low Platelet Count."_

Growling in frustration, Gabe throws the diagnostic results on the table and runs for his office, not wasting a single second, because that one faint shimmer in time can mean life or death for the patient. The ever-increasing panic arising in Gabe's chest, thudding and pulsing in rhythm, with his heart, starts echoing louder and louder.

And in one exhilarating moment, it's all over.

"Viral hemorrhagic fever?" Gabe whispers in shock. As if to confirm, he checks the last line of the article:

_A virus antibody reaction test will have a positive result._

"There's no time," he breathes rapidly. One way or another, this will have to end here. Somewhere in Gabe's mind, he's hoping to not give the antibody reaction exam, but if he doesn't, and it really is viral hemorrhagic fever, then the patient might die... "I need an antibody reaction exam! RONI, do something!"

"All normal routes are negative," comes RONI's pessimistic answer. "Searching for an alternative route."

"We're counting on you," Gabe adds, as if to just increase the pressure already building on the computer. "I'm gonna check on the patient!"

Without pausing for RONI's approval or denial, Gabe leaves the office and runs to the office, slamming into the door and throwing it open. "Hey, you still alive? The diagnosis is almost over!"

"Doc... tor...?" Trumbull whispers, barely having the strength or will to speak. His eyes flutter softly.

_This isn't good... his consciousness is slipping. The only thing I can do is... _"Hey, don't pass out! C'mon, keep talking to me!" Fearing that if Trumbull's eyes close one last time, they will never open again, Gabe walks forwards and sits in a chair opposite of the army soldier.

"Agh... Yes... Sir... Doctor, could you... do me a favor? Tell my wife and little girl... that I loved them with all my heart... I-I won't get the chance to tell them myself."

"You moron, you can't say that!" Gabe explodes.

"Please... I can't..." Trumbull whimpers, his mouth turned down in a grimace as blood still trickles down the corners. His eyes have lost their blazing look and now cast downwards, the lights gone out of them, hopelessly beaten and defeated.

"Screw that!" Gabe roars. "You're gonna tell 'em all that crap yourself! You're going to live, and you'll go home a proud man! Brag to your daughter that it's all thanks to you the world's safe!"

"Ah... the world...?" Trumbull whispers. "Huh... That'd be nice..."

Relieved, Gabe chuckels. "Heh... it'll be awesome, right? And then you'll hold your wife and give her one hell of a kiss!"

"Ha..." Somewhere, Samuel Trumbull still manages to find the urge to laugh. "You're... such a funny person. The army's going to have to cover up how I died here... Doctor... I... am proud... that I was able... to be useful... to a wonderful doctor like you... Doctor, Sir... please, don't let me die in vain. Please, keep this country safe! That's... my last wish..."

"Jeez, I can tell your condition's really bad because you think I'm the kinda guy who could say that stuff," Gabe rolls his eyes, hiding his tremoring fear behind his cocky laugh. "I'm just not that guy... I don't do the whole _love your country _thing. I half-ass my way through work just so I can half-ass the rest of my life and get by in one piece..."

"Please, you're a good person," Trumbull whispers. "I'm sure... you can..."

"No way, hell no!" Gabe says, pushing back. "I can't do it. But... I do know one person that can do something like that."

"S-Someone besides you?"

"Yeah, not me," says Gabe, eyes pointing beadily at Trumbull's fallen gaze. "He has a strong sense of justice and he loves his country. Then again, it's because he's a soldier. He's a patient of mine."

"A patient?" Not getting the question, or purposely avoiding the answer, Trumbull can only spit out these words. "Who?"

"I'm talking about you, you moron," says Gabe, laughing. "Who else would there be besides you? Now, listen to me! If you have time to complain, then you have time to hurry up and get better! And then come to my office. If you're willing to do that, then I"ll help you too!"

"Me... Haha, all right... I'll... definitely go..."

"Doctor, I have discovered another clearance route." RONI, who has been silent for so long, finally finds the time to interrupt. "The exam has been done, and the results are ready."

"All right!" Gabe cheers. "I knew you could do it! Tell me the results immediately!"

"Understood, Doctor." RONI takes a breath before delivering the bad news. "The virus antibody reaction was positive."

Gabe's face, flushed from terror and relief, finally escapes his false poker face. "Ugh... I knew it! We need to finish up this diagnosis immediately!"

"Understood, Doctor. New symptom observed: _Positive Antibody Reaction."_

"There's no mistake," Gabe groans. "It's viral hemorrhagic fever! Diagnosis complete... get someone, a medical team, in here! Now! Treat this man!"

"My access has been restored," RONI says. "Doctor, someone is coming this way."

"So, the bastard finally shows up!" Gabe cries, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Dammit, I've had enough of this!"

* * *

"What the _hell _are you thinking?" Gabe demands, storming up at the light-haired Jacob Tillman. "Were you gonna kill him if you couldn't get any useful data?"

"Calm down, lad," Tillman shrugs. "Don't get so hot and bothered."

"I've heard what's happening, you know," Gabe threatens, referring to the valuable pieces of information Trumbull had given him. "These same symptoms are appearing at Resurgam, as well. If you really want to know what it is, I'll tell you! Listen up, he has a viral hemorrhagic fever. This is the worst I've ever seen. It kills within days! A state of emergency has to be declared! Now go call the CDC!"

"That will not be necessary," says Tillman simply and stubbornly, the old fool he is.

"_What?"_

"USAMRIID and the Army will be handling this case from now on," says Tillman. "Fortunately, the infection is only around Portland. It's been decided to have the infected area quarantined."

"Wha-?"

"You said it yourself, kid," Tillman grunts. "This virus kills within days. If we keep the lockdown for that long, we'll win."

He holds up a hand, greying and wrinkled with age, but immediately two fresh soldiers walk up and point their guns at Gabe, ready to fire at the first sign of danger.

"You bastard," Gabe growls, choosing verbal assault. "Are you seriously just gonna let them die? You're not doing anything to help the people in there?"

"Please, excuse me," says Tillman, sighing and wheeling out the door. "Let's talk again, if you're alive."

Gabe stands stock-still, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid to show the slightest hint of fear, because the two guns next to him are more than enough to set panic alight. But one voice coming from his earpiece calms him down... somewhat.

"Doctor, can you hear me?" It's RONI's voice, coming out of his earpiece.

"Yeah," says Gabe, surprised but unfrozen, lighting a cigarette. "Kinda busy here."

The two soldiers tighten their guns, unaware of the dialogue between Gabe and RONI, but feel that something will happen.

"I will turn off the lights in 10 seconds. Run to the exit."

"Huh? What are you doing?"

"I am helping you escape. Mr. Tillman will then take over."

"Huh?" Gabe cries. "That old geezer... what's he thinking?"

"A government car is parked with its keys two blocks north," says RONI. "Please begin your escape in five... four... three..."

"RONI, wait!" Gabe protests, his eyes landing on the chest of bones Tillman had shown him earlier. "These bones!"

"Two... one..." RONI says, heedless of Gabe's complaints. "Commence action."

The lights go off and the world fades into complete darkness.

_This isn't some Hollywood movie! _Gabe screams in his head, running for the exit, but grabbing the bones along the way. Somehow, he finds himself in the car RONI had mentioned, safe.

"Sheesh, how big is this place, anyway? Here goes!"

With a grunt, Gabe starts the motor. Just as he does so, his cell phone begins to ring.

"_Looks like you made it, kid," _says Tillman's voice.

"Where the hell are you?" Gabe shouts.

"Be quiet and listen," Tillman's commanding tone orders. "Everything I said in there was the truth. If that infection can spread, that area is a minimal sacrifice. Drive north. You'll get to a small helipad there. You can trust the pilot; he'll get you to Resurgam."

"What're you going to do?"

"Hmph..." he grunts. "I'm in politics. It won't be so easy for me."

And he hangs up.

"Hey!" Gabe cries to thin air. "Jacob! Dammit..."

* * *

"Assistant Secretary Tillman, come with us please."

The two soldiers who have previously been holding Gabe have now switched their target to Tillman, after the discovery of him actually helping the diagnostician get away. Guns are pointed at Tillman's frail head, but he doesn't quiver in fear.

"Fool. The time when people could be led by guns has passed. How can you call yourself a proud American citizen?"

Tillman doesn't say any more, merely wheels along on his way, a soldier following him, gun cocked. Funnily, Assistant Secretary Jacob Tillman begins to hum...

* * *

Well, this one was 7,803 words... and... *cough* Surpassed The Simplest Truth's 6000. Still hasn't beaten Behind the Lies or Crime of Passion yet, though. :)

I hate this one. . Rosalia's Bloom is freaky. At least Tillman was awesome in the end.

And you'll have NO IDEA who those bones belong to. When I found out, I freaked. :)

Chronologically? Read the footnote for Patient Zero's prologue.

~fk


	47. PZ: III: Stolen Memories

**CHAPTER THREE  
**_Stolen Memories_

CR-S01

Portland Prison. The place of bad memories and the forever lingering chill of prisoners pleading for release, the place that only has one silent prisoner.

"CR-S01, get out. You're being transferred."

The alien guard's voice cuts through the mist that emerges from the opening cell doors of the so-called fridge. Out emerges CR-S01, his hands still hopelessly tied down, but his red eyes gleam.

"Transferred? Why?"

"An epidemic's broken out," the guard's husky tone answers. "All of Portland is being isolated. Just in case, we're moving everyone from the facility as well."

CR-S01's mind brings back the terrifying and nightmarish memories: black bruises, moving mucus, the strange Kaposi's sarcoma... "Portland's...?"

The guard holds a clipboard, and he says, almost smugly, "Here, read these. I hear it's a pretty dangerous disease..."

In the clipboard shoved into CR-S01's face is a picture of a victim's neck, a splotch of black spread across it, the rampaging disease taking patients with ever-increasing hunger. And a faint nausea spreads through CR-S01 as his eyes widen. Suddenly, in the blazing darkness, memories that were previously stolen comes back to him...

"_Huh..." a blue-haired man chuckles as he opens a freezer filled with samples encased in circular glass cases. "00.09, Ros..." A grey hand extends inside the cold box and retracts with a sample._

_The man takes a syringe and fills it with the liquid extracted, and holds it steadily next to a naked rat. "That's a good boy. This time, it should..." His voice heavily taken over by a French accent, the doctor injects the fluid into the dead rat._

_The effect is immediate; a section of pale pink skin turns black as the virus takes over. The man gives a gasp, knowing fully well that this virus is too wild and out of control, and that this lab rat will end up with the same fate as the hundreds of rats before, still splayed in awkward positions in their cases..._

CR-S01's scarlet eyes open painfully. "Hey, tell me more about this disease."

The guard, currently in the process of unlocking CR-S01's cuffs, suddenly falls over, writhing in double agony and pain. CR-S01 wrenches himself out of his cuffs and runs over to the man. "What's wrong? Hang in there!"

CR-S01 desperately wrenches at the man's turtleneck, finding a black splash of skin invading what used to be a pale white colour. "A... bruise?" In shock, CR-S01 raises his head to the guards still outside, astonished. "Call an ambulance! This place is infected too!"

"D-Don't move!" a frightened guard whimpers, raising a trembling gun.

"Ugh!" Spitting in frustration, CR-S01 rises from his position over the almost-dead guard, and storms in front of the gun. "What're you doing? If you don't get an ambulance-"

"Don't move!" the armed gun shrieks. "What did... what did you do to him?"

"No!" CR-S01 protests. "Calm down! I haven't done anything! Listen to me. This is the same disease infecting Portland! Do you understand? Cancel the transfer, or it'll only spread!"

"Sh-Shut up!" the guard screams. "Just shut up and put your hands on the wall!"

"Dammit!" With a snarl of tantrums, CR-S01 runs into the guard and shoves him aside, running for freedom.

The guard, cowering on the ground, his gun knocked away and useless, can only scream for help. "W-We've got an escapee! S01's escaping!"

* * *

CR-S01 strides through the streets of Portland, looking for his target: Portland Medical Center. He has to see what's there, before the police catches him... he has to know what's going on, because CR-S01 has encountered this disease in the past. The only problem standing in between CR-S01 and his solution are his stolen memories, but these days... are they coming back?

When CR-S01 walks into the waiting room, the sight is shocking. Piles and piles of people lying on benches, moaning in pain, their shouts haunting CR-S01's dreams forever. Families crying worriedly, doctors running around anxiously, people hugging each other, saying goodbyes if they don't make it through... masses of victims already lying in puddles of blood, and more with blood still trickling from their lips. The tortured screams of toddlers and elders, of ill adults and infants. And out of the midst of all of them, Ian Holden's is the sharpest.

"You three, head to the ward. I'll watch over the entrance."

_So they know. _Of course, the first place the FBI will check for the escaped prisoner will be the hospitals, knowing that it will attract CR-S01 the way light attracts moths. CR-S01 blends into the mass of people, but with his flop of raven-black hair and his gleaming red eyes, it'll be difficult to hide sufficiently.

"Ngh... ugh..." CR-S01 turns in surprise to finds a dark-skinned young adult stagger into the waiting room. One look at his bloody mouth tells CR-S01 that he also has the virus. Immediately, the victim collapses.

"Hang on!" CR-S01 cries, kneeling by the collapsed patient. "I'm going to get you help!"

From behind the crowd, CR-S01 catches Holden's orange hair, but further back, a gleaming yellow sign: _OPERATING ROOM._

Ahead of the young doctor, though, back the way he had came, CR-S01 can just make out the neon red sign glowing from just under the ceiling: _EXIT._

Torn between the decision of saving this life or running away, CR-S01 can remember the words he had said to Tomoe, so long ago: _I'm not running away! I always run, from whatever sins I may have committed... I won't run anymore, from the lives I have hurt, or from the ones I can save!_

"Out of the way, FBI coming through!" Holden's voice shouts from behind the circle of gathering people. With a split second to make his choice, CR-S01 rises, carrying the patient. Even Holden's voice falters to a stop, not for long, though. "Release the hostage and leave. Don't make me shoot you."

"You have to know by now that the quarantine's failed," CR-S01 snarls, not quivering in the sight of the gun cocked and aimed at his head. "Get out of the way. I want to treat this patient."

"You're a fugitive," Holden says coldly. "I can't authorize that operation."

CR-S01 responds, just as cold, stiff, and serious, his voice not wobbling or high-pitched in distresses terror. "Then shoot me. I'm not abandoning this person to die. This is what you taught me to be."

Holden doesn't shoot, but doesn't lower the gun either. CR-S01 slowly backs away, but settles into a run as he follows the arrows to the operating room. Ian Holden stands there, unmoving from his spot, gun cocked at thin air, debating what to do.

CR-S01, in the meanwhile, has long since decided his goal: to save lives. He runs with the arrows, but soon falters when he hears a familiar voice.

"Hey, what're you doing over there?" Maria Torres's indignant voice yells. "Get the transfusion!"

CR-S01 opens the door to the room and walks in almost dreamily. Maria turns to face him. "Hey, don't come in here without-"

Her voice gets cut off short when she notices the prisoner. "What're you doing here?" she breathes in disbelief.

"I'm glad you're here, Maria," is CR-S01's simple reply. "I need a bed and equipment."

"Uh, r-right," Maria stammers, trying to recover. "What's his condition?"

"He's exhibiting asterixis," says CR-S01 immediately. "It's most likely his liver."

"The treatment room's full," Maria gasps. "You'll have to treat him on the bed!"

"I can do it," says CR-S01 confidently. "Maria, I'll need you to support me!"

"Hey, explain yourself!" Maria cries as CR-S01 readies the scalpel. "What the hell's going on?"

"I remember now," says CR-S01 shortly. "I know about this disease."

"You do?" Maria gasps in astonishment. "The disease that's the cause of the quarantine?"

"There's no time to talk about it," the surgeon mutters briskly. "Beginning treatment!"

He performs a lobectomy and the incision flares wide, giving him a perfect view of the liver. But... a black core is in the midst of the veins that surround the liver, alien and out of place.

"What the hell?" Maria mutters. "Hey, tell me what this is..."

"I don't know," CR-S01 admits. "I don't remember everything yet."

"What?" Maria groans. "You just said you remembered!"

"Not everything," says CR-S01. "I do remember some specific facts. There's a certain procedure required to remove the focus. Cut off its nutrients and inject it with sodium hypochlorite!"

"Sodium hypochlorite?" Maria gasps incredulously. "We can't inject that! If we do-"

"Yes, it's poisonous," CR-S01 cuts in. "It must be directly injected in the focus."

"Damn!" she cusses. "That's what we have to do, huh? Okay, I believe you."

"Thank you. Now, let's begin the treatment. First, we need to drain the mucus. Ready the drain."

Maria hands over the rain and CR-S01 drains the mucus.

"To cut off its nutrients, we need a vasoconstrictor," says Maria, into business now. "I've got it here. It's the medicine in the blue vial."

CR-S01 obeys her and injects it into the now-orange focus. After a split second, it turns navy blue.

"The sodium hypochlorite's the deactivator, right?" Maria confirms. "I've got it here in the orange vial. Be careful with it!"

CR-S01 nods and injects it carefully, then removes it with the scalpel. "The focus has been excised. Now placing it on the tray."

The moment one focus has been carried away, two more come and replace it. Those two quickly extracted, but then Maria detects a shadow in the veins, something CR-S01 has missed in the midst of his frenzy.

"Wait!" Maria calls, as CR-S01 sets down the forceps. "There's something there!"

CR-S01 pauses and looks at where Maria is indicating. "What is this?"

A shadow is travelling in the veins...

"Something's moving inside the blood vessel!" Maria cries. "What now?"

"Stay calm," CR-S01 orders. "We'll open up the vessel and extract it! We'll have to find it, first. Get the ultrasound ready!"

Using the ultrasound, CR-S01 cuts the blood vessel open, and drains the foreign object along with the blood that puddles with it. "All right! We've removed that... whatever it is!"

"What the hell is this?" Maria mutters. "Is it... a tumor?"

"No," says CR-S01. "This tissue isn't human. Anyway, we must get it all."

Three more objects are cut out and drained away, and then two more focuses appear, in the midst of more strange things moving along the vessel. Quickly realizing that if an object touches the focus, all effects of the vasoconstrictor and the sodium hypochlorite will wear off and the mucus will regenerate. So he proceeds carefully, but even so... black marks surface onto the liver, like dark fingers snatching the organ greedily away.

"Wh-what the?" Maria cries, recalling this event from that Kaposi's sarcoma case. "Is that a black bruise on the organ?"

"No!" CR-S01 cries. "It's... it's a... aaagh!"

"Hey, what's wrong?" Maria says anxiously.

"Agh, n-nothing," CR-S01 trembles. Both him and Maria remember this symptom happening in that first operation they did together, with Shelly Brooks, the lady with Kaposi's sarcoma. But that wasn't really Kaposi's sarcoma, and this is most likely the fully developed version of the virus haunting Portland and threatening to break free. "Continuing the operation!"

The bruises start wobbling, and Maria's eyes are swimming over with terror. The objects now begin to move backwards, making it twice as hard to treat the focus. But when the last one disappears, the bruises retract and only the remaining objects are left.

"The patient seems to be recovering," CR-S01 notes, breathing heavily. "Looks like he'll make it. Let's clear out the remaining objects and end this."

"Hey, you don't look to good," says Maria nervously. "Are you sure you're okay?"

CR-S01, with trembling fingers, remove the objects and sutures the incision, disinfecting it and covering it with a bandage. "O-Operation complete. The patient... needs to be taken..."

Without uttering another word, CR-S01 collapses and immediately goes unconscious. Fearing the worst, Maria drops to his side. "H-Hey! Are you all right? Hang in there! Dammit, what's going on? Come on! Man... he's got nerves of steel. He got all the way through the operation in that state..."

In CR-S01's subconscious, however, memories reflect back to him. _He's eight years old, still very young, but reading books scholars these days may pick up. Somewhere in the distance, his mother whispers ominously._

"_He's reading that book again... it's so horrible!"_

"_Look at how he has no expression at all!" his father cries. "He can't be my son!"_

_The young boy hears his parent's whisperings and turns towards his frantic mother._

"_Aah!" she screams. "He looked at me! I keep thinking he'll kill us one day!"_

"_You monster!" the father yells again. "Leave us alone!"_

_A flash of blinding white light as time moves by, days blending into months and eventually years. In a matter of seconds, CR-S01 is reduced to standing in the light of the sun blasting into his dark house, still clutching his thick book, but red eyes looking up at the towering figure of a blue-haired man wearing a doctor's coat._

"_Your mommy and daddy are in Heaven now," the man says with a heavy French accent. "I'm your family now. From now on, you're my precious son. Now come along..."_

_CR-S01 hesitantly takes a step forwards._

"_Ah, you've come," says the man happily. "Congratulations on your acceptance. We're teacher and student now. I won't go easy on you, son!" The doctor's chuckle makes the entire scene go white as the world changes again._

_CR-S01 wobbles at the scene in front of him, trying to stand up straight, despite the piles of bodies in front of him. People are lying on the floor, lifeless, and CR-S01 slowly collapses, just like them, though not dead. Yet._

_He blinks, trying to stay conscious, but a heavy boot steps in his way. CR-S01 lets out the barest cough as something sharp is injected into his skin, and his eyes widen in surprise as he hears his stepfather's voice come into play._

"_Everything... is nothingness," he breathes. "You too, one day..."_

_A syringe falls to the floor, and CR-S01 can feel his memories slowly tugging away. With a dry rasp, he stretches out a trembling hand. "Wait, wait!" he cries. "Professor Sartre!"_

_Sartre looks back once, and walks away, as CR-S01 fades into unconsciousness._

_When he wakes again, his memories will be gone, and he will remain to be the biggest suspect of the Cumberland College crime. Sartre has disappeared completely._

"Ngh... aaaaagh!" With a scream, CR-S01 wakes from his unconsciousness, with Maria holding onto him.

"Are you all right?" Maria cries. "Hey!"

"Albert... Sartre..." CR-S01 mutters, recalling the blue-haired man from his memories. "I remember now... I remember everything!"

"Remember...?"

"Hey!" a voice cries. "What're you guys doing?"

A doctor's voice from outside the doors of the room passes through the wall and into CR-S01 and Maria's ears. Another voice, all too familiar to the prisoner, follows.

"FBI. We're tracking a fugitive. Let us through."

"C'mon, you're in the way!" another agent yells. "Move!"

"Crap!" Maria mutters. "Hey, over here!"

She pulls CR-S01 away from the room and out another door, and around the crew parts of the Portland Medical Center and into the garage. She pulls open the door to her ambulance and shoves CR-S01 in, getting in herself after. As she drives, CR-S01 slowly tells her his story: his parents' death, Sartre adopting him, the research in viruses... the Cumberland College incident.

"Then, you aren't the one who caused that incident," says Maria softly. She remembers the nasty words she had spoken to him before: _We're doctors! We swore an oath to do no harm! You can't remember, huh? Well, start remembering! Remember what you did, damn you!"_

"Yes," says CR-S01, no doubt also reflecting on that time at Resurgam. "If my memory is true, the culprit is Albert Sartre."

"But... why?" Maria asks.

"I don't know," CR-S01 sighs. "But he was distressed about his research."

"Research?" Maria whispers.

"Yes," says CR-S01 sullenly, not at all proud of the fact. "He was doing research into _protecting viruses."_

"And those are?"

"They're viruses that attack other harmful viruses in the body," CR-S01 explains simply. "The one he was researching was too aggressive. It would attack any organism but itself indiscriminately."

"Wow," Maria breathes, stunned. "Then, if it stopped attacking normal human cells..."

"Yes," CR-S01 answers. "Every disease known to mankind could be eliminated. At least, that's what the professor must have thought."

"What happened to it, then?"

"I don't know," CR-S01 admits. "But he disappeared after that bioattack. And now there's a similar virus threatening America. I can't help but think that these are related."

"Great," Maria groans. "So I guess the quarantine was the right move."

"Yes, but it's too late now," says CR-S01. "A guard died at the prison. The virus is already outside the reaches of the quarantine."

"This is bad," Maria breathes. "What should we do? Should we tell them?"

"Think they'd break the news without having a solution?" CR-S01 asks darkly. "The government won't do anything because they know all this."

"Then what're we supposed to do?" Maria shouts frustratedly. "Sit and watch it spread?"

"Calm down," says CR-S01. "I have a lead. We need to find his daughter."

"Whose daughter?" Maria asks. "The professor's?"

"Yes," CR-S01 confirms. "Professor Sartre adopted a girl when I was fourteen. The virus was cultivated from her blood. I can't guarantee everything will be explained, but... if we can find her, it's possible we can end this!"

"Then, where is she?"

"I don't know," CR-S01 sighs. "All I know is her name. Her name is Rosalia. Rosalia Rossellini."

Panic and fright, sudden astonishment, and a leaping fear takes over Maria. _The girl. The one in the white dress and white hair. She saw me five time... the fire... Resurgam... my home, twice... and the mall._

"Rosalia..." The name is familiar in Maria's mind. And she remembers, the crying little girl, her white hair still short, now blooming into a sad teenager, hair grown so long, it's a wild carpet down her back. "Little Rose? Don't tell me..."

She makes a sharp decision, and swerves the steering wheel sharply to the left. CR-S01, jerked out of his seat but held in by the seatbelt, turns to face the paramedic. "Maria? What're you doing?"

"Shut up!" she snaps. "Just come with me!"

* * *

FINALLY Rosalia comes into play. *sighs* Doesn't Rosalia like, rule all? :)

Yay, CR's back! Sweet move there, escaping from prison. :P

Chronologically? Read the footnote for Patient Zero's prologue. If you wanna find out what happened to Maria and CR, go read Missing Girl. Chapter Seven of Patient Zero.

~fk


	48. PZ: IV: Spreading Infection

**CHAPTER FOUR  
**_Spreading Infection_

Hank Freebird

"Vitals dropping!"

"Get her to the treatment room!"

"The patient's convulsing!"

"Contact Anesthesia immediately!"

"Move, please! Let us through!" Hank's thunderous voice roars over the din of the others.

"We'll have to do this on the bed. I'll support you." Naomi's voice soon follows in the cacophony.

"You can do that?" Hank asks incredulously.

"I was once a surgeon," Naomi admits, as she thinks of her past days, what with the whole Healing Touch thing. "I can't operate, but I can help you."

"That's more than enough," says Hank gratefully. "Help me move the patient! Here goes!"

On the count of three, Naomi and Hank hoist the patient onto the blue mattress. Part of her yellow bedding slips aside to show a bruise from underneath.

"These...!" Hank cries.

"All the patients have this bruising," Naomi tells him. "May be infectious..."

"It doesn't matter!" Hank groans. "We're already exposed. Let's open her up and start treatment! Get ready! We expect multiple affected areas. We must treat them all!"

"That's not all," Naomi adds anxiously. "There are fractures in the arms and legs. There must have been a panic at the scene!"

"It must have been terrifying," Hank agrees. "It's going to be okay!"

"The pulse is flatlining!" a nurse cries from somewhere far away. "This isn't good!"

"Starting resuscitation!" a doctor yells. "Get the AED ready!"

A moment later, "No pulse yet!"

"Dammit! Once more!"

"This is a tough one," Naomi sighs, listening to the two nurses' struggle. "Seems they lost their patient."

"Ngh..." Hank mutters. "No, we're not gonna lose! Starting the operation!

"Our objective is to treat the fracture and remove the focus," Naomi tells him as Hank makes the incision.

"Right. We'll treat whatever we find!"

They get a perfect view of the patient's arm, but the bone is oddly-shaped and oddly-coloured. "Is this... a bone tumor?" Naomi breathes. "It's bizarre... how could its shape change so radically?"

"I saw the terrible scene at Portland Station," says Hank darkly. "We've never seen anything like this disease... but we don't have a choice. We have to do this ourselves!"

"Unbelievable," Naomi sighs. "Understood. Let's begin extracting it."

"We need to chip out the bone around the tumor and extract it! Let's begin!"

Using the chisel and mallet, Hank strikes it eight times and excises the tumor, as Naomi gets onto the synthetic bone needed to replace the hole. And with the screws and drill, Hank sets the synthetic bone in place.

"Let's move onto the next treatment," says Hank, and they move onto the fractured arm.

"It's been severely fractured," says Naomi nervously. "Could you reshape it?"

Hank answers by using the forceps to drag it in place, and putting the plate and screws in position. And at the wrist, Hank finds even more tumors. Using the same method as before, Hank removes it and replaces it with the synthetic bone. Securing it with the plate, screws, and drill as always, that wraps up the arm.

"The left leg is next! We'll save this patient, no matter what!"

Just then, more voices arise from other operations.

"Drain!"

"The hemorrhaging won't stop! I need another transfusion!"

"We can't suture fast enough! Ah, incoming cardiac arrest!"

"The patient next to us is...!" Hank squeaks, torn between his patient and the one next door.

"Concentrate on your own operation," Naomi orders, her experience from Delphi speaking up. "There's no time to waste worrying about others."

"I know..." Hank groans. "I can't stand it. Lives are being lost, right before our eyes!"

"We're not gods," says Naomi. "It's not possible to save every life. That's why we must do our best for the patients right here in front of us."

"I know!" Hank mutters. "We have to continue our treatment! We will save this patient, no matter the cost!"

He goes back to his operation, and carefully chisels away the tumor at the ankle. The synthetic bone is quickly cut out withe laser, and put into the hole the tumor had occupied. The plate is secured, and the screws inserted to hold it down.

The bone tumor out of the way, all that is left is to retrieve the broken bone fragments and putting them back in place. Using the forceps, Hank does so, and drills more holes in the thin bones and uses a plate to hold them down.

At the knee, another tumor is found, quickly chiseled away. Synthetic bones, drills, plate, just like before. Hank and Naomi finally reach the last part of the operation: the fractured femur. Using a pin, the femur is put back in place, and the incision closed up with the stapler.

"Whew... we saved him," Hank whispers, sweat rolling down his dark face. "You werew a great help. Thank you."

"No, the success is all yours, Doctor. I haven't seen such precision in years," Naomi replies modestly. "All my glory is in the distant past... I envy you for your abilities."

"Dangit..." Teeth bared in fear, Hank is really out of control now. "What in the world's going on?"

"We don't know enough yet," Naomi sighs. "At this rate, we will fail." She gives another heave of frustration and walks off.

"Wh-Where are you going?" Hank stammers, but receives no reply. With no choice, he follows her.

Naomi strides into the conference room, Hank tagging along. They walk into the midst of Esha Patel's temper tantrum as she screams, pacing along the room.

"What?" she yells. "Then what are we supposed to do?" The receiving person in the phone clutched to her ear says something, and she storms back, "All right. Call me immediately if you learn _anything."_

She hangs up and talks to Hank and Naomi. "The CDC doesn't know what's going on. This is up to us."

"What did they say?" Hank asks.

"They said it's _under investigation," _Esha groans. "Useless jackasses!"

"I'd expect as much," Naomi interjects. "You've seen the confusion. I doubt the CDC's informed. We were only able to treat one of three patients taken here. It's likely the same at the other hospitals, as well."

"That can't be!" Hank cries.

"In any case, we can't move until the CDC has results," says Naomi briskly. "I'm afraid the number of infected will only increase."

"Hank, we have to tell the staff about this emergency!" Esha commands sharply, and the two run off.

* * *

"This area is now under curfew!" Ian Holden's voice roars into the megaphone. "Everyone outside must promptly go indoors! If you feel ill, hang a red cloth by your window! I repeat, even those who feel ill are not to leave their homes!"

Outside on the streets, people flee in panic as oversized tanks move along the streets, clearing the last of the population away. A barrier stretches from one road to another, sealing off the Portland boundaries. Lines upon lines of army soldiers guard the walls, not letting anyone through.

Portland is officially under quarantine.

* * *

Quarantine... *music plays*

I didn't like Spreading Infection. . Too long.

Chronologically? Read the footnote for Patient Zero's prologue.

~fk


	49. PZ: V: Chloe's Change

**CHAPTER FIVE  
**_Chloe's Change_

Tomoe Tachibana

"Please listen," says Tomoe briskly and precisely in that mesmerizing tone of hers. "Black bruises are a sign of this disease. Upon confirmation, tell a doctor and isolate the patient. Minimize contact to prevent nosocomial infection."

"Yes!" The chorus of nurses and doctors cry as they stampede off to their respective patients.

Tomoe turns around and sees a little girl sitting in the floors of the hospital. Bandages swerve around the top of her head, and one of her lovely green eyes are patched over, diminishing the light that has once gathered in it. Her mouth, finally turned down in a frown, makes her face have a grimy and gloomy look. The bandages on her cheek, neck, and most of her body doesn't really help, either.

"You're Miss Alyssa, right?" says Tomoe softly, striding over. Alyssa looks up, but doesn't say anything, and her face doesn't light up either. "Hello. I'm Tomoe Tachibana. I'm a doctor here."

Alyssa gives a soft groan and her hands go behind her back.

"Whats' that you have there?" says Tomoe gently. "I won't take it. Can you show me?"

"You won't get mad?" says Alyssa hopefully.

"No, of course not," Tomoe smiles. "I promise."

With bandaged hands and arms, Alyssa raises a thin black cat.

"Oh, my," says Tomoe, her smile growing wider. "A cat? Is she your friend?"

"Uh-huh," says Alyssa brightly, finally finding someone to sympathize. "Her name's Chloe... she hasn't been feeling well."

"It seems she's swallowed something," says Tomoe, repeating Naomi's words. "She'll be fine."

"Really?"

"Alyssa." Naomi's voice, so cold and indifferent from Tomoe's smooth one, comes from Alyssa's left as she walks over.

"Naomi!" Alyssa cries happily, and she sets Chloe on the ground as she clambers up and gives Naomi a big hug. Her head barely reaches Naomi's waist.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Dr. Tachibana," says Naomi apologetically. She looks at the black cat sprawled on the ground, "Is that Chloe?"

Chloe gives a soft meow at the sound of her name, and Tomoe rises from her squat. "I was looking at her. It appears she's swallowed something."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Naomi mutters. "Again? This cat is a real handful."

Sighing, Naomi bends down and retrieves Chloe from the floor, holding her by the neck, fingers prodding her throat. "An inflammation in her mouth?" Naomi breathes. "Alyssa, go back to your room."

"Okay!" says Alyssa obediently. "See you later, Tomoe!"

"It could be a bacteria," says Tomoe. "I'll take a closer look at it."

"I know how serious it is here," Naomi sighs, setting Chloe down gingerly, trying not to get scratched. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"To ignore the small while fighting giants is against honor," says Tomoe, wagging a finger in the air. "Chloe is a precious friend to Miss Alyssa, after all."

"This is a great hospital," says Naomi. "All right, I'll assist you."

"I'd be glad to accept your help, Dr. Kimishima," says Tomoe warmly.

"Naomi's fine," says the medical examiner, and then, "Miss Tomoe."

* * *

"The objective is to extract the foreign object," says Tomoe, briefing for the endoscopic operation.

"Yes, animals are much smaller than humans," says Naomi. "Be careful."

"Indeed," says Tomoe. "There are inflammations in Chloe's mouth, too. There may be other problems. Let us proceed with caution."

"Understood. Let's begin the operation."

Precariously, Tomoe eases the endoscope into Chloe, and finds inflammations almost immediately, just as Naomi had said. Blood pools and ulcers are quickly removed along with the inflammations, and they move into the stomach.

"Is that... some kind of bone?" Naomi breathes in disbelief, looking at the foreign object lodged in the wall of the stomach. "In any case, please retrieve it."

Tomoe obeys, but when the bone pulls away... "What? A... focus under the bone?"

"This... it's biofilm," Naomi gasps. "It's secreted when microorganisms create colonies. But a colony inside a living organism? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Considering the pathological change we saw earlier, this worries me," says Tomoe anxiously. "I'm going to retrieve the focus so we can send it in for a biopsy."

With the forceps, Tomoe extracts the dark sphere, but when she does... vitals immediately drop to 15 and a dark colour spreads along the walls, turning it into a black wave as it splashes along the stomach walls.

"What?" Tomoe cries, shocked. "The focus burst? The inner wall's black... this...!"

"There's no mistake," Naomi cuts in calmly, but an edge of panic has crept into her voice. "These are the same conditions as the infection that caused the quarantine!"

"Ngh!" Tomoe moans. "We must treat the affected areas that have appeared! Please support me!"

Tomoe raises the vitals to above 60 and begins to treat the hemorrhaging, polyps, blood pools, and multiple other affected areas that had appeared inside the black area.

The moment the affected areas are gone, the black splotch seems to shrink, and more hemorrhaging appears. For a moment, Tomoe wonders if her eyes are playing tricks on her, but it happens a second time, confirming the previous time.

"This pathological change seems to be undone by treating the affected areas that form! We can't let it go on! We must treat it!"

"It'll be rough, but there's no other option!" says Naomi. "Watch for Chloe's vitals!"

Tomoe continues treating the affected area, and the discoloured area is reduced quickly, soon eradicated.

"We toughed it out," Naomi sighs.

"What was that, though?" Tomoe murmurs, trying to calm her racing heart.

"I don't know," Naomi admits. "It seems that massive numbers of affected areas form when the colony explodes."

"Yes," Tomoe agrees. "How is Chloe's condition?"

"She hasn't stabilized yet," says Naomi checking the vitals and other gadgets. "The same affected area must be elsewhere as well."

"If so, then the other affected area is...!" Tomoe doesn't want to think about it.

"That's right." Naomi confirms her dark thoughts bleakly and sullenly. "If we haven't found it by now, it must have reached the large intestine."

Going through the small intestine and following the path of affected areas, Tomoe edges the endoscope further into Chloe's inners. But... the affected areas seem to be growing more and more in size, Tomoe finds it hard to keep up with it all. Tomoe even finds a tumor along the walls, retrieving it with the snare and forceps. After such a long time of traveling through narrow intestines, Tomoe and Naomi finally find the remaining bone fragment.

There is another colony there, too, that bursts immediately, spreading its black plague along the walls. The discoloured area shrinks after Tomoe treats the hemorrhaging and the polyps that had formed, and once more after the tumors and ulcers are gone. The black area is soon gone after the last hemorrhaging has been treated.

"Operation complete," says Tomoe cheerfully, wiping the sweat from her brow. "Chloe's a tough little cat."

"That was great," says Naomi, matching Tomoe's mood. "It's been a while since I've seen an operation handled so perfectly. Thank you."

* * *

After the operation, Naomi bends down to inspect the bone Chloe had swallowed, thinking that it's probably from an abandoned trash can, but wondering how it had come to be infected with the virus. However, after staring at it for a solid minute and trying to gather her breath, Naomi can only spit out the truth.

"It's a human bone," she says sullenly.

"Human bone?" Tomoe whispers incredulously.

"Yes," says Naomi, with just as much disbelief in her tone. "This has to be the cause of Chloe's pathological change. And... those black bruises when the colonies ruptured..."

"Do you think it's tied to the cause of the quarantine?" Tomoe gasps worriedly.

"I don't know," Naomi sighs. "We'll need to investigate this. Let's split. If I look into this bone, can you do a biopsy?"

"Yes," says Tomoe firmly. "I'll see what I can do!"

* * *

Now things get interesting. :) You won't believe what Gabe does next chapter.

He just did a repeat of Hank falling into a garbage can. *cough* "I... uh... tripped and... I... uh... fell!"

Chronologically? Read the footnote for Patient Zero's prologue.

~fk


	50. PZ: VI: Demons and Death

**CHAPTER SIX  
**_Demons and Death_

Naomi Kimishima

Screaming, Gabriel Cunningham falls from the air, hands splayed in an useless attempt to slow his fall. Fortunately, he lands in one of the mega garbage bins, very much like how Hank had ended up on that day so long ago...

Gabe looks up, a fishbone stuck in his hair. "That old geezer," Gabe spits, trying to clamber out of the piles of trash. "_Safe, _my ass."

"You look like you're having fun," Naomi comments, striding next to him. She had been strolling around the courtyard earlier, and Gabe had suddenly flown in and dived into the garbage can. "Just what are you doing?"

Gabe jumps, startled at the sight of Naomi towering over him. "Huh? Ah, Naomi! Perfect timing."

"You seem relaxed," says Naomi airily. "The quarantine's got everyone in a fit."

"Yeah, I know," says Gabe. "I just escaped from the middle of that mess." He finally succeeds in climbing out of the trash can and stands next to Naomi. There. Now they're equal heights again.

"What do you mean?" Naomi asks.

"Well, let's talk inside," says Gabe hastily, already scurrying for the entrance to Resurgam. "I can't let them find me here."

* * *

Naomi listens to Gabe's story as she looks down at the bones with fear hidden deep behind her subconscious. "Unbelievable... and so you brought these bones with you?"

"Well, yeah," says Gabe, relieved that she believes him and doesn't think that he's a dumbass. "Can you reconstruct them?"

"This is nonsense," says Naomi fiercely, and Gabe takes a step back from his last thought. "How do you know this tells us anything?"

"I don't!" Gabe cries, fighting back. "But you'll do it, right? There might be something!"

"Ugh..." Naomi may be used to getting her own way, but so is Gabe. "I can see arguing is a waste of time. Fine."

"Alright," says Gabe, relieved. "I'll reconstruct the body. You take the head."

Naomi chuckles softly. "I can see why your marriage didn't last very long."

And all her humor disappears as the familiar hum vibrates in her hands. Just like the previous time, just like the dozens of times before, Naomi raises the phone to her ears, but this time with some hesitation. What will she hear?

"_My son... forgive me... I was enticed by the Devil!"_

Naomi closes her eyes slowly, trying to find one, just one, message she has heard before that matches these mysterious and creepy words. Not the Veronica Cage one. Not the Alma Parker or Abby Parker one. This case stands alone.

"The Devil..." Naomi opens her eyes abruptly and the humming stops. She sets the phone down and finds Gabe looking at her in surprise.

"What?" Gabe laughs mockingly. "Is that your voodoo hotline again?"

"Let's get started now," is all Naomi says, in her serious and cold professional tone. "I'll take this room."

"Yeah, yeah," Gabe yawns as he walks out of the room and into the bordering one, leaving Naomi alone with the skull bones. She looks down at the remains of what used to be a whole human, flesh and bone.

"The Devil, huh?" Naomi murmurs, experiencing the taste of the words. "What did you see?"

Suddenly, over the crackle of the intercom, Little Guy's voice bursts forth. "There you are, Dr. Kimishima. I've been looking for you."

"Well, well," says Naomi, not at all surprised. "What are you doing in a place like this?"

"Don't be that way," says Little Guy. "I could be pretty useful, you know."

"I'm sure you could, if you told me what the government knows."

"I don't really know anything," says Little Guy. "The army's on the move, though."

"Fine, whatever," Naomi snarls. "You can at least help me with this."

"Yes, of course!" Little Guy cries. "That's why I came!"

"There's no telling who these things belonged to," Naomi muses, looking at the clothes and the bones.

"Right," says Little Guy hastily. "Say, who was here a moment ago? Friendly guy...?"

"An old friend," says Naomi casually. "Jealous?"

"Uh, n-no!" Little Guy cries, his voice rising in crests and falls of panic as his face turns red again. "That's not what I meant!"

"I'm joking, Little Guy," Naomi laughs.

"Oh... I-I see..." Though what is there to hide? Naomi knows that he likes her, Little Guy knows that she knows. But... does she like him back? Most likely, no.

"Our goal is to determine who this person is," Naomi says, guiding him back onto the topic. "Sex, race, age, and the time and cause of death."

"That's going to be difficult with no additional info," Little Guy admits, recovering .

"I'm well aware of that," says Naomi. "Still, we'll have to try do our best. First we'll have to reconstruct the skull. It's not very likely to help us determine the cause of death..."

"Doctor, the pieces may be contaminated," Little Guy cautions her, having told the case of the Samuel Trumbull diagnosis. "Use protective gear. I'll get you a sterilized suit and a mask."

"Yes, thank you... a skeleton kept hidden in the bowels of USAMRIID... who are you? Where'd you come from? Let's begin. Show me how your light flickered out!"

Naomi starts out by reconstructing the skull, as said. She finishes the front, left, back, and right parts, but... one gap at the jawbone still remains missing and blank, a void bordered by other skull bones.

"Odd," she says quietly. "All the fragments that were given to me have been placed. Does this mean there's a missing piece of bone? In any case, the skull can't be fully put together in this state. Unless the missing section is found, there's nothing more that can be done to this skull."

Giving up, Naomi turns to the personal effects. A dark suit and trousers, still in very fine condition, but the black is spoiled by red. "It's a bloodstain. Could it belong to this individual? If it was caused by physical trauma, then there's something unusual about it. There's no clothing damage... either there's a reason why, or this blood didn't come from this person."

Both sleeve cuffs are also covered in blood, also with no signs of damage. Sighing, Naomi glares at the skull, refusing to yield to its undying mysteries... _Hurry. There's an epidemic going on, _Naomi thinks, and her mind works faster, trying to unearth the mystery. _People are dying out there... hurry..._

Naomi's eyes flash closed. Veronica. Alma. Sandra Lieberman. All dead because of this mysterious illness that had almost taken a cat's life as well... cat... Chloe...

Chloe!

The bone!

"The missing area of skull is the section from the mental tubercle to the angle," Naomi gasps. "Chloe had swallowed pieces of human bone. Don't tell me!"

Frightened, yet with firm hanks trembling inside, Naomi retrieves the fragments of bone Chloe had swallowed and sets them gingerly into the gap in the skull.

It fits.

"So it was like I'd thought," Naomi sighs. "After Chloe swallowed the bone fragments, the mysterious foci appeared in her body. There's something in this bone, some kind of pathogen... Chloe's digestive tract was severely weakened. The bone fragment had begun to adhere to the digestive tissue... that would mean that Chloe swallowed the fragment about a week before."

In the midst of Naomi's rant, Little Guy interrupts. "Oh, Dr. Kimishima, that man came by a moment ago."

"_That man?" _Naomi quotes. "Who are you talking about?" Though anyone knows that she's just playing around with Little Guy.

"The, uh, friendly guy," says Little Guy hastily. "He said something about having finished reconstructing the body..."

"Ah, you mean Gabe," says Naomi, deliberately rubbing it in Little Guy's face. "All right, now we can observe the corpse as a whole."

"I've gone ahead and put the skull with the rest of the skeleton," says Little Guy. "You can look at them whenever you like."

"Good, you're on top of things. Can you tell me what you've observed from it?"

"Oh, right," says Little Guy. "There wasn't much to get from the body, though. The person was roughly 185 centimeters tall. A histologic examination of the bone detected 15 types of amino acids remaining. There was also a very high concentration of nitrogen. I've sent the results of the analysis to you computer. Please check it out when you need to."

"Good," Naomi congratulates him. "I'll look into it. I need this bone analyzed too, Littlle Guy. Be careful with it... there's a danger of infection."

"Whoa!" Little Guy jerks his finger back from the bone Naomi had given him. "Can you warn me a little sooner next time? Give me a moment, please. Let's see here... I've checked it out, but there's nothing especially unusual about it."

"Is that so?" Naomi frowns, puzzled. "That's odd."

"What's so odd about that?"

"This is the bone that Chloe swallowed," Naomi explains. "When she did, the same black focus that the patients in the quarantine zone had showed up inside her body. According to what Gabe said, the serviceman who had been investigating this bone had hemorrhagic fever. So, in other words, this bone carries a virus that triggers the hemorrhagic fever."

"A virus?" Little Guy exclaims. "B-But... this is just a skeleton! A virus requires living cells from its host in order to multiply! So... this virus not only survives the host's death, but can continue within a skeletonized corpse..."

"Can you really say that such a thing is impossible?" Naomi shoots. "That's not like you. Calm down, Little Guy. Everything we've seen up until now has taught us something: there are diseases out there in the world that defy all our understanding and what we think of as common sense."

"All right," Little Guy sighs, giving in. "Let's assume that it is a virus. That doesn't mean that all the mysteries have been solved. How does this virus live inside this skeleton? And why aren't we infected with the hemorrhagic fever, after we've handled the bones?"

"I really can't say at this point," Naomi admits. "It's possible this person was infected with the virus. Or, perhaps, the skeleton had been contaminated after death. In any case, we'll need to continue investigating this in more detail. However, I can explain why you and I haven't contracted the hemorrhagic fever."

"What?" Little Guy whispers, astounded. "How?"

"Well, according to what Gabe was told by the Assistant Secretary, airborne infection was impossible. This was because the infection wasn't spreading within USAMRIID. If that's the case, it's unlikely that the virus is dispersed through a respiratory vector."

"Then, how does it spread?" Little Guy asks, confused.

"Well, in Chloe's case, the foci were located under the bone fragments. Taking that into consideration, this virus's route of infection is mucous membrane contact. The virus only has a limited means of transmission."

"I see," says Little Guy slowly. "That explains the cat's case, at least. But what about the USAMRIID researcher? I highly doubt that he'd be chewing on bones."

"Good point," Naomi muses. "There must be an explanation for how that other serviceman was infected, as well."

Going back to her investigation, Naomi abruptly changes the mood and topic. "I need you to analyze something." She points at the picture of the blood spilled across the suit the person had been wearing when he died.

"Of course," says Little Guy openly. "Is this a bloodstain?"

"Right," says Naomi. "I need you to check the skeleton's DNA and see if that blood came from the same person."

"No problem," says Little Guy. "Give me a moment."

While waiting for Little Guy, Naomi goes back to the examination room and examines the personal effects again, more carefully. After a few minutes of careful searching, she finds objects still pocketed in the suit...

"Is this a syringe?" Naomi gasps, recognizing its all too familiar shape. "And drugs? If this skeleton belonged to someone with a criminal history, whoever this is might be kept in the FBI's criminal database. If I asked Little Guy about this, it might be easy to find out just who this person is."

Curious for more treasures tucked away at pockets, Naomi rummages through the rest of them. In the breast pocket, she finds a metallic key, not yet rusted with age.

"Is this a key?" she asks out loud. "For what, though? Maybe Little Guy will be able to find out something about it."

Thinking that Little Guy should've finished the analyzing by now, Naomi runs back to the office with her new information. Little Guy has good news for her, too, though whether if it can be called good... yes, the DNA in the bloodstain and the bones match.

Naomi goes back to investigating.

"Abnormal decrease in bone density," she mutters quietly, "With the lack of cartilage... what we can deduce from these two events is a weakening of the skeletal system. Furthermore, I believe that both these processes happened while the person was still alive. If these conditions allow us to infer anything, it would be that this person was severely debilitated by the time of death. Little Guy? I need you to analyze something."

"Yes, of course," he says, distracted from his own work. "Huh? What's this?"

"I found this in the deceased's personal articles," Naomi responds. "I get the feeling that it may be drugs."

"I see," says Little Guy slowly. "So you want me to run this through our criminal database?"

"You're good at picking up on things," Naomi compliments.

"This is the kind of thing that we do at the FBI, after all," says Little Guy cheerfully. "I'll look into what's in these ampules and see if the syringe has been used. It's going to take a while, so you'll have to give me time." Not wanting to repeat another Naomi tantrum scene, of course.

"I'll keep investigating the corpse," says Naomi grudgingly, and then soon turns back on her word. "Hey, Little Guy, can you tell me what this key is for?"

"A key?" Little Guy groans. "Let's see... this is a... very unique key. It involves magnetism."

"Magnets?" Naomi quotes. "What could a key like that be used for?"

"Probably a safe, or something else high-security," Little Guy shrugs. "There's a number on it, as well."

"I see," says Naomi. "Can you find out where whatever it goes to is located?"

"I-I can look into it," Little Guy stammers, shocked at the upcoming task ahead of him. "But..."

"What's wrong?" Naomi asks innocently, blue eyes staring icily at Little Guy's profile on the computer. "Is there a problem?"

"We don't have a clue where this key came from," Little Guy admits. "It'll take a long time to find out any specifics about where this key goes."

"That's fine," says Naomi impatiently. "It's still better than me trying to find this out by myself, right?"

"Well, we are a nationwide organization," says Little Guy, proud. "Fine, I'll take the key."

"Could you analyze something for me?" Naomi asks a moment later, disrupting Little Guy's few moments of peace once more, but shoves the bloodstain in his face.

"Sure," he says reluctantly. "Huh? Haven't I already analyzed this for you, Dr. Kimishima?"

"Yes, but I want to know more details," Naomi presses.

"Like what?"

"We know now that the bloodstain comes from the same person as these bones. But there was no obvious damage to the deceased's clothing. Can you investigate in detail into what kind of hemorrhaging would have caused that bloodstain?"

"All right," he agrees. "Can you give me some time for that, please?"

"Of course, I'll be counting on you."

A minute later, Little Guy starts talking again. "Dr. Kimishima! The analysis of the syringe is complete."

"The syringe," Naomi repeats, "The one that was in the case?"

"Yes," he says. "Interferon, aciclovir, ribavirin, lamivudine..."

"Slow down a second," Naomi orders exasperatedly. "What are you talking about?"

"Um... it's the medicines that were confirmed to be in the syringe and the ampules," says Little Guy, his cheeks burning slightly red.

"All that was in there?" Naomi asks incredulously.

"Seriously, I don't understand," Little Guy sighs. "Every antiviral drug on record is in this list."

"Antiviral drugs?" Naomi quotes.

"There was even an ampule of Ashvins in there, too."

"Ashvins?"

"It's a medicine that hasn't been fully authorized by the FDA," Little Guy explains. "It's an excellent antiviral drug, but there were some problems with side effects. Ashvins is an antiviral drug. It draws on the patient's calcium to suppress viral activities. If used in excess, the subject will become calcium deficient. The body then draws calcium from the bones, and it leads to all sorts of complications."

"A drug that robs calcium from the bones," Naomi repeats in her poetic ways.

"Well, it isn't its purpose, of course, but that is what happens."

"Something bothers me about this, though," says Naomi. "The deceased had a large amount of antiviral drugs in his possession. Along with a dangerous unapproved drug that caused calcium deficiency in the human body. The large amounts of antiviral drugs found in the corpse's personal effects, and an ampule of Ashvins, a dangerous antiviral reagent. The reason that Ashvins was never approved was because of abnormal calcium consumption, and a fifty-kilogram person's body contains roughly one kilogram of calcium. Ninety-nine percent of that is in the bones and teeth. In other words, the side effect of the Ashvins drugs is decreased bone density. Considering the information that's been gathered so far, this person likely administered the Ashvins drug to themselves. The first piece of evidence supporting that is the complete fracturing of the femur, the strongest bone in the human body. Continuing on, the second point would be the loss of meniscus in the left knee. Thus, we can deduce that the person's weakened skeletal system was due to the side effects of the Ashvins drug. I have a bad feeling about this...

"These bones passed on the viral hemorrhagic fever via contact with mucous membranes. And whoever this was, they had been taking large doses of antiviral drugs along with a dangerous unapproved one. It's likely that this individual had been infected with some kind of virus, and that virus itself was..."

"If that's the case," Little Guy interrupts, "Then the cause of death was..."

"I should stop making conjectures," says Naomi quietly, scolding herself for getting too ahead and being a hypocrite. "I need some hard evidence to back these theories up. Hemorrhagic fever causes hemorrhaging from all over the body, along with other various conditions. If we could find traces of that disease..."

"Hemorrhaging from all over," Little Guy grunts. "Well, we just received the results from the analysis. It says that the bloodstain on the person's clothing contained traces of saliva."

"Saliva? If that's the case, then that bloodstain was vomited!" Immediately, Naomi flashes back to the various cases she had seen, the most significant one being the Veronica Cage mystery, that blood-splattered clothing of hers that she had vomited... "That would explain why there were no signs of damage to the person's clothing. The viral hemorrhagic fever causes bleeding from all over, both internally and externally. Vomiting blood is one of the signs of this disease as well. Hmm... this person died of viral hemorrhagic fever. The evidence that I'm drawing that conclusion from is the unchanged clothing. If this person was still alive after having had an attack of vomiting blood, I highly doubt that they'd go on without doing something about the bloody clothes. Thus, the traces of vomited blood on the clothing indicate that this person died soon after this attack."

"We've finally figured out the cause of death," Little Guy sighs.

"Yes," Naomi agrees, though half-heartedly and sullenly. "Long before the pandemic that is currently raging broke out, this person caught and died of the viral hemorrhagic fever that caused this quarantine. Who in the world are you...?"

"Dr. Kimishima, if I may?" Little Guy asks hesitantly, and gingerly, as if dealing with someone who can crumble any moment. "I've noticed something... Well, this antiviral reagent, Ashvins, it was rejected by the FDA for its dangerous side effects. That, along with the large amount of antiviral drugs, these things aren't available to the general public."

"You have a point," Naomi nods with approval. "Someone who would have access to these things would be in the health profession. It would be someone who has the knowledge of these new drugs and their effects on viruses. It would also be someone who has the authority to obtain such information from the medical community."

"That's what I think," says Little Guy. "Does that help a little?"

"It's fantastic," says Naomi. "Let's move onto the next step. How can we identify this individual, Little Guy?"

"B-But... all we have is the skeleton and personal effects!" Little Guy stutters, horrified by the very idea.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Naomi grunts. "Or is my opinion of you overrated? If this person is in the health profession, then the FBI database should have an entry. By studying the bones, we can narrow down just who this person was."

"Why'd you ask me if you already knew the answer to your own question?" Little Guy protests.

"We don't have time for complaining!" Naomi shouts. "Look up details about skeletons in our forensics database. Send what you find over to my computer immediately!"

"Yikes," Little Guy howls. "G-Give me a moment! Uh... There! I've foudn them! You want me to send them over to you, right?"

"Now it's time for the grand reveal," Naomi sighs, her anger dropping drastically. "Let's compare the skeleton's characteristics with our information. Then we can confirm just who this person is."

Naomi goes back to the examination room and looks at the skeleton, eyes narrowing as she roots out the most specific details. "This skull has triangular orbital bones," she frowns. "The cranial sutures have also begun to fuse, but they aren't completely fused yet. This is what's causing the cranial sutures to resemble broken lines instead of solid ones. I recall that the cranial sutures can tell something about a body..."

Going down, Naomi studies the pelvis. "We can determine something from the shape of the pelvis."

Naomi glares at the rest of the skeleton, so incomplete from the one of Veronica Cage's. The left arm missing from the shoulder, right leg gone from below the knee... half the rib cage torn out, and broken spots in the spine... nothing else can be learned from the mess. Shrugging, Naomi returns to the office.

Studying the tidbit of information on the cranial sutures, Naomi suddenly remembers the facts they can give: "A person's age at death can be determined from the state of the cranial sutures!" she bursts out. "The ones here have partially fused, indicating that this person's age was in their 50's!"

Moving on excitedly with wild eyes, Naomi goes on with the skull's orbital bones. "The German physician Blumenbach established a distinction of five major branches of human anatomy. One point mentioned in determining a person's race by skeletal features is the shape of the orbital bones. Comparing this with the materials at hand, this skeleton's race is Caucasian!"

_This is almost over...! _"An individual's gender can be determined by the shape of the pelvis. The pelvis is heart-shaped. Thus, we can deduce that this skeleton is male.

"Fifteen types of amino acids were detected in the skeleton. There was a very high concentration of nitrogen, as well. If I compare this information with the materials available, the estimated time of death for this body is around two years ago! Hmm... someone had this disease two years ago, long before this pandemic began? This fact alone won't get us anywhere, but if I consider it in light of other information, a Caucasian male in his 50s who died two years ago and was familiar with viruses... all the information we need has been gathered. Now we'll be able to figure out whose remains these truly are..."

_Conclusion reached. _Naomi draws back from her computer, ready to begin the final search to determine just who this person was. But somewhere in side Naomi, fear quivers dangerously, threatening to break free. _This is it. This is the truth to this virus. _But why is Naomi feeling as if she doesn't want to know the answer...?

* * *

"We couldn't identify this body after all," Naomi sighs, looking down at the remains of the skeleton. "But there is an important fact that I understand now. First, let's sort out what we do know. We'll talk later."

_First is the time since death: two years. The nitrogen and amino acids in the bones prove that. Remember, the body's soft tissue was gone before it was found. This suggests that the body wasn't underwater or buried._

A meadow stretches out, though what used to be green stalks are now shadowed with pale yellow, the color of dying plants. The corpse lies in the middle of it, the tops of the wild-growing grass tickling its dead skin as the wind carries them further away.

_Next is the gender: male. The shape of the pelvis, the face, and bones prove that. However, he had a thin build. He could hardly be muscular._

And the skeleton appears, its pelvis's shape etched deeply in Naomi's mind.

_Next, the age: around 50. The cranial sutures have fused with age. This proves that this person was at least in his 50s._

The cranial suture, appeared as broken lines, gleams from the surface of the skull... the one thing that has taught Naomi its age.

_It's possible to determine his race, as well. Racial differences are mainly exhibited in skull shape. The eye sockets, cheekbones, nose ridge... it's clear... Caucasian._

_Our next clue is his occupation. Now this is only speculation, but I believe this shows what he did for a living._

And the items found in his pocket: a syringe faded with age, ampules of the mysterious antiviral reagents, and assortments of other things.

_If the items belonged to him, he was in medicine. In addition, it's likely that he worked in pathology. Now then, what was the cause of his untimely demise? A virus living within a corpse long after the host dies. I don't want to believe it, but... bones don't lie. The virus passes into mucus membranes on contact. He died like the man Gabe diagnosed... hemorrhagic fever. He understood what was happening... he knew why he died... he knew, and it shows, in the last words he had to say._

"My son... Forgive me... I was enticed by the Devil!"

_That... is the truth illuminated by the light of this life._

"With this in mind, I can use the data to find an individual," Naomi murmurs, tapping away at her computer. A few seconds later, the result comes up, and Naomi gives a sharp intake of breath, a gasp of pure shock and astounding. "He's...!"

* * *

"_Hey! Hey, you listening? Where are you going?"_

"_Just be quiet and follow me. We need to talk to the Chief."_

With Naomi literally dragging Gabe by the sleeve of his coat, the two unlikely pair enter the command room, where Chief Esha Patel stands, staring stubbornly at a screen.

"Chief, I'd like to speak with you," says Naomi.

And she explains everything that had happened in the case: the finding of his background, his age and other facts, his profession, up until the point when Naomi had finally found his identity. As she speaks, her voice is haunted not with the lingering chill her _the dead shall speak _phrase leaves people with, but with an urgency that suggests this somehow might save lives and prevent the virus from taking over America, and eventually, the rest of the world. Too excited to pause for breath, Naomi lets the entire chain loose, leaving both Gabe and Esha with confused faces and jaws dropping in shock.

"_What did you just say?" _the chief whispers once Naomi has finished her rant.

"It may be hard to believe, but listen to me, please," Naomi begs. "The bones Gabe came here with contained the infectious virus. But, since the infection is not carried by air, the chances of these bones being a source of pandemic is low. However, they may still be a clue to finding a solution."

"I can't believe the two of you could find out so much," Esha gapes, and Gabe shrugs, remembering that all he did was to reassemble the skeleton.

"No, this is just a coincidence," Naomi interrupts. "Still, Dr. Tachibana should be done with a biopsy on the same virus."

"The vector of infection's unknown, but we've ID'd it," Gabe adds. "You think we'll make it in time?"

"It's near hopeless," Naomi sighs. "The disease advances too rapidly. The infected will all die before we finish the DNA analysis."

"Dammit!" Gabe curses, so caught up in the conversation with Naomi, he has been oblivious to the fact that the chief is still listening. "Isn't there any other lead we can follow?"

"This isn't a clue, but I have one more thing I must report," Naomi concludes, bringing the chief back into the conversation.

"You... _must _report?" Esha quotes.

With a flick of her fingers, Naomi brings the large screens around the command room to life, as they all glow with the pale blue light that washes the walls. She begins clacking information into the computer, just as she had done three times previously, to confirm that she was right. "I compared the reconstructed bones to our database, and only one person was a match for the data we had."

Intrigued, the chief's heart begins to race as she takes a step closer, and now the three doctors surround the tiny keyboard, eyes flickering involuntarily towards the screen above them. And Naomi hits the enter key, and the result appears above them.

"_Him?" _Gabe asks incredulously.

"Yes. Albert Sartre, a professor of virology... who vanished after the Cumberland College incident."

* * *

I told ya it would be a shock. The mystery of CR-S01, Rosalia, and Sartre are slowly coming to light! Well, it'll all be clear after Carpet of Blue Death... *stare*

Wow... for a really short Forensics chapter, it was still 5,266 words? Miracle...

Chronologically? Read the footnote for Patient Zero's prologue.

~fk


	51. PZ: VII: Missing Girl

**CHAPTER SEVEN  
**_Missing Girl_

Maria Torres

"Hey, where are you going?"

Maria's ambulance pulls up to a stop around the corner of an ancient and long-abandoned street, ashes and stray garbage swirling around with the wind. The location is foreign to CR-S01 at first, as he follows the paramedic down the street.

They continue walking for several seconds, emerging into a desolated scene: a once majestic building rises up before them, its grand arches and gates, once shining proudly, are now blackened with soot and the flames that had devoured them. The brick walls are brittle and weak, and the building it fences in seems even more so.

The mansion is two stories tall and at least four times bigger than a regular American house. Wide arches spread cross both the first and second floors, their windows long since cracked and shattered, now only archways left. The fire that had consumed the structure has left behind in its angry wake a demolished building that is still miraculously standing even before its own weight.

"This place..." CR-S01 murmurs, trying to conjure up something from his past.

"I grew up here," Maria explains. "At least, until I started that fire..."

CR-S01 has distinct memories of Maria once saying that she had once set fire to her orphanage, but what does this have any relevance to the virus blooming now? "Why did we come here?"

"We're looking for Rosalia Rossellini, right?" she asks softly. "It's coming back to me... Crybaby Rose... she was so small, and was always sad."

Surprise overcomes CR-S01's face, and although his face remains stony and free from expression, his gaze becomes stronger and his hands drop to his side limply. "You know her!" _Her? Rosalia, my sister?_

"What an idiot," Maria groans, though her voice is meek, as though all her temptation to yell at the criminal has evaporated at the sight of her old home. "I saved her just that one time, but that kid, she remembered me."

"What do you mean...?"

"Nothing," she says quickly, approaching the rusting iron gates. "Look, at least we have a lead. Let's go."

CR-S01 grunts, but follows Maria to the gates. She gently tugs on them and they open without any resisting, but creakily and yet somehow so silently, the way they had just glided apart. Figuring that it reminds him too much of the cell he had once occupied in, CR-S01 strides through the gates and follows Maria into the tumbling orphanage.

* * *

"Ross... Adel... Damn, where is it?" Maria swears, shifting through the sheaf of papers still remaining in the drawers of the abandoned orphanage.

"These records are over a decade old," says CR-S01. "Will they help us?"

"We're not looking for records," she says shortly. "I got news five years ago. The orphanage said that a letter had come for me."

"The incident at Cumberland College was eight years ago," he slowly pieces everything together. "If the letter is five years old, we could find Professor Sartre..."

While still seeking for the letter she wants, Maria continues talking, but with some hesitation. "Do you resent him?" She knows what it's like to lose a parent – in fact, she lost both of them, which is why she ended up in an orphanage – but CR-S01 had lost both of his also and trusted a second father, who betrayed him in the end.

"No," says CR-S01, after almost a full minute of sounds only made by papers rubbing against each other. "I just want to know what happened. I want the truth."

Nodding slowly, Maria returns to the pile of letters, almost at the very bottom. "Aaron, Silvia... these aren' it... Here! Rosalia!"

She holds up a single sheet of paper, yellowed with age, and turns it so that the last rays of the sun at dusk is shining right on it. CR-S01's pale face leans in, contrasting with Maria's dark one but still having the same goal they commonly share. "Is that really it?"

"Look, there's no mistake," says Maria excitedly, and the glove on her left hand, which is grasping the letter, moves slightly to reveal a picture of Rosalia Rossellini, laughing and still alive, nothing like the illusions Maria had seen. But her dress and her hair are still the same, though she is laughing, no longer haunted by the grim look she has worn for so long. Laughing and alive... a stream of butterflies dance at her knees, and behind her stretches a field of flowers.

"It's her." She gives a gentle laugh, "That idiot."

After a quick read through the letter, Maria and CR-S01 both give a sigh in unison. "The letter doesn't say anything," Maria mutters. "No return address..."

CR-S01 had studied with Professor Sartre for years, and knows his science mightily well than Maria. "Actually... look at the picture. Monarch butterflies... these flowers in the background are cosmos."

"So...?"

"Monarchs only stay in America until the end of the summer," says CR-S01, his voice tensing up. "That doesn't match the cosmos' blooming season."

Maria's already big eyes grow even wider. "Then... then you're saying..."

"Right," he confirms. "This picture wasn't taken anywhere in America."

"Well, where was it taken, then?" Maria cries, wanting the answer, and none of this drama.

CR-S01, being the good boy he is, ignores Maria's outburst and continues his lengthy lecture. "At the end of the summer, the Monarch butterfly head south to find Aslcepias to fed to larvae."

"Heading south?" Maria gasps, excitement also peaking in her voice. "Then, that means..."

"Yes," CR-S01 breathes. "She's in Mexico."

Finally, satisfied with her answer, Maria's eyelids close softly. This is it. The final answer to her predicament for so long. Crybaby Rose... the girl who had been so filled with sorrows and burdens... Maria lets one word escape as she lowers her head: _"Rose..."_

Suddenly, the wail of sirens approaches the orphanage. Jerking out of her momentary daydream and snapping CR-S01 out of it as well, they both run over to one of the few intact windows. Even from the first floor and the dense foliage and weeds blocking the way, CR-S01 can still make out their shapes and sounds: glimpses of scarlet and white trucks roaring by, their sirens blaring...

"Ambulances!" he yells. "Tons of them!"

"Dammit, there must be something going on!" Maria cries. "We have to go!"

* * *

"_Maria, can you hear me? Come in, Maria! Respond!" _Esha Patel continues screaming into the radio, hoping that Maria's ambulance will pick up the call.

Somewhere far away, Maria outraces CR-S01 and hears the Chief's words emit out of the radio in her ambulance. "Is that you, Chief? Sorry I'm late!"

"_Maria? Get back to Resurgam! Now!" _Esha doesn't even pause for scolding, only briefing her slightly.

Agitated, Maria asks, "What's going on?"

"_I don't have time to explain! Just get back here!"_

"Alright," Maria mutters, and waves a frantic arm at CR-S01, who is just catching up. "Let's go!"

* * *

"Sorry I'm late!" Maria yells, jumping out of the ambulance the moment it stops. She runs up to Resurgam, its field clad with patients convulsing, vomiting blood, and that disturbing black bruise...

"Thank heavens!" Esha sighs, relieved, clasping a hand to her chest. "The army's brought in tons of patients!"

"Listen carefully to me, Maria!" CR-S01 adds, but his voice shows none of the panic displayed in the Chief's. "Effective treatment varies depending on how far along it is! I'll tell you which medicines to use for each patient! Come!"

"You?" Esha gasps, on a verge of another breakdown, jabbing a finger at CR-S01. "Why are _you _here?"

"Save the talking for later!" Maria yells briskly. "Let's begin the treatment!"

They run up to a spot needed for help, CR-S01's raven hair and scarlet eyes not even drawing attention as they normally would, because in spite of the emergency, everyone's eyes are occupied elsewhere. "How can there be so many patients?" CR-S01 gasps, looking around wildly.

"It's not just the infected," says Maria darkly, learning fast. "The people who are fainting and convulsing are causing secondary injuries!"

"Ngh... we just have to do this!" CR-S01 takes a deep breath, forcing all the emotion out of his voice. "I'm going to tell you about the medication, so listen carefully! Now, as I mentioned earlier, there is no cure for the virus! However, its activities can be controlled using existing antiviral drugs! We'll be using an immunoglobulin reagent to specify the onset type! The reagent is in the white vial!"

Barely following CR-S01's words, Maria takes the white vial hastily given to her by a passing doctor, along with three other differently-colored medicines. She takes the syringe and gives the patient in front of her a shot with the reagent, but... "Hey, nothing happened! What am I supposed to do now?"

"Calm down!" CR-S01 says, very calm himself. "The drug is also a color reagent! Watch the area until secondary bodies' HRP enzyme activity changes color!"

"Are you kidding me?" she chokes, incredulous. "This is so inefficient! Should I check on the other patients until this reaction kicks in?"

"I'll leave that decision to you. However, the reaction only lasts for a short period of time. You should focus on this patient for now!"

And so, Maria does so, biding her time. Several seconds pass, but they seem like eternity to the impatient paramedic.

"All right, the reaction to the reagent has colored the area!" says CR-S01, not missing a beat. "Now inject the antiviral drug of the same color as the affected area!"

The bruise Maria had injected the reagent into has turned a dark red, and so, Maria injects the red vial. The reaction is instantaneous: the bruise immediately turns to a bright, hot pink. It seems ridiculous to see such a funny color in the midst of a crime, but Maria bites down her humor and goes on with the operation.

"Good," CR-S01 nods in approval. "This will suppress the virus for a while."

"Damn, only for a while? It can't cure it completely?"

"Impossible," is his solemn reply. "The conditions will worsen again over time. We have no choice but to reinject the drug before that happens!"

"So, we have to memorize which drug works on which patient, and keep sticking 'em with it," Maria confirms. "What a goddamn pain in the ass!"

"There's no other way. We have to do this!"

Accepting that reluctantly, Maria leaves the first patient alone and heads to the next one. Two large gashes in the chest and abdomen: "Beginning hemostasis!"

Using the gauze, Maria soaks up the blood covering one wound and treats the other one as well. As soon as she finishes up, though, the monitor connected to her starts beeping.

"She's flatlining!" CR-S01 cries, by her side every minute. "Charging the AED!"

Maria grabs the paddles from his hands and lowers it onto the patient's chest. One flash of light and with expertise, Maria revives the patient. "We have a pulse! Securing an airway!"

She takes a yellow tube, and surrounded with the screams and yells of patients and fellow doctors, shoves it down. "Intubation complete! She can be transported now!"

One patient stabilized, but still four more to go, only to be replaced by more. Maria moves onto someone whose vitals are not doing as well – vitals at a mere 30 – and sees the familiar bruise covering her right arm. While waiting for the reagent to work, she soaks the blood and one cut, injecting the red vial of antiviral drugs the moment the reaction starts.

"We've done all we can!" Maria shouts. "Get him to the ER!"

There, two patients down. Maria moves onto another patient, only to be interrupted by CR-S01. "Maria, the military transport's arrived. They've brought more patients!"

"Damn, there's more?" Maria mutters. "I'll be right there!"

Two new patients arrive, to replace the two stabilized ones. Maria figures that their vitals are doing good at the moment and moves onto her older ones, extracting shards of glass that had sunken into one patient's bodies. The time used for the reagent to work is frustratingly short yet so long, that Maria gives him one shot of stabilizer and moves onto another poorer patient, with vitals at 21.

_Looks like he isn't infected, but his left arm's broken. _Raising vitals up to a respectable rate, she doesn't even have the time to fix his arm before the first patient CR-S01 had walked her through starts convulsing and her vitals lowering fast. Momentarily forgetting her color in the swarm of things, Maria injects the reagent quickly and switches to one of the newer patients.

"This child's infected," CR-S01 calls. "Inject the immunoglobulin reagent!"

Maria does so. "Damn, I hate this part. Come on, show some damn color already!"

Waiting also, Maria doubles back to the patient with the broken arm, ignoring the fifth patient for now, figuring that he's doing okay. Besides, this patient doesn't have any masses of angry bruises. Pulling his arm back and splinting it quickly, Maria doesn't have the time to bandage it before the fifth patient chokes and his vitals start bleeping like mad.

"Another infected," she gasps, running over. "How many people have this damn disease?"

Raising vitals from 20 to 30, only to have it brought back down to 20 from a convulsion, Maria frantically fixes all of his wounds, though not having enough time to inject the reagent. The second, third, and fourth patients are now all in danger, and now she goes back to the second one, having missed her color. Biding her time again, Maria finally bandages the splint and yells for him to be transported.

That's one patient down, and four more to go, bringing the total number of stabilized victims to a three. Plenty more to go.

"Maria! Incoming patient!"

So much for only having four more.

Maria returns to the fourth patient, the kid with the bruise on the neck. Frustrated at her own performance of injecting the reagent and not staying around to see the color, Maria injects it again and hurries back to the second patient before the reagent on that one wears off.

It hasn't. Maria injects the yellow antiviral drug and doesn't even have the time to marvel at the once-black bruise turning a very sunshiny yellow. She runs back to the first patient and raises the vitals, only to double again to the fourth one, the kid, and injects the reagent before realizing that it has already turned blue. Burning red from both exhaustion and embarrassment, Maria injects the antiviral reagent and the bruise turns sky blue.

"This is giving me cold sweats!" Maria mutters, raising his vitals. "Do me a favor and don't get any worse, okay?"

She shouldn't have said that, because a flatline immediately happens. "Cardiac arrest? Beginning resuscitation!"

Snatching the paddles from CR-S01's hands, Maria brings him back to life and sends him off to the ER. Returning to the fifth patient, she raises vitals quickly and then runs, panting heavily now, to the second and first, reagents going into them both. She goes back to the fifth and does that too.

"There's just no end to this!" she complains, hammering the patients the moment their colors appear, ignoring the seventh one right now and focusing only on the remaining three: the first, second, and fifth.

The second with yellow, however, seems fairly okay. "He's stabilized! Send him in!"

Three patients left. Maria injects two syringes full of the red antiviral drug into the first patient, glad to get her out of the way. "Everything's been treated! Transport her to the hospital!"

_How many more hospitals out there are like this...? _she wonders, sighing. _How many are suffering our fate, or worse? Only five patients are stabilized so far..._

Before Maria can move onto the fifth patient, whose colors are already showing in blue, though, CR-S01's eyes glaze over to the distance. "Maria, more vehicles are pulling up! We've got two more patients!"

"Two of them?" Maria scowls, reluctant to bring her patient number up any more from the two it already is. But still... saving lives do come first. "Tch... bring them over here!"

Now finally turning back to the fifth patient, Maria injects the blue vial and yells, "She's good for transport!"

Turning to the seventh patient for the first time and raising vitals from a 35, Maria inspects his condition. "Glass shards, huh? I'll start extracting them!"

Using the forceps, she pulls them away, and asks for the scissors. Best to know what's under there than be sorry.

Surely, under the folds of his forest green clothes is an army of black bruises, already spreading across almost half his body. Maria quickly fixes his wounds and injects the reagent into the bruise, but accidentally injects the red antiviral drug instead of the immunoglobulin reagent. The vitals so precariously raised by Maria now drop to a dead 18 with a fit of convulsions.

"Be careful!" CR-S01 scolds. "Make sure you're using the same color drug as the reagent!"

Taking a deep breath, Maria raises his vitals to a 60 and move onto the eighth patient. "He's got burns? Must've been a secondary victim!" CR-S01 says.

Smothering the burns in antibiotic gel and treating them in less than ten seconds rapidly, Maria screams, "All right! He's ready for transport! Get him into the ER!"

By now, only two patients are left: the seventh and ninth. The ninth patient's condition has become more severe and have worsened quite quickly, for vitals are dropping into the red zone. Raising them up first, Maria quickly fixes the lacerations the woman has just as quickly as she had treated the burns.

"The lacerations have been treated!" she calls. "Take her in!" Turning back to the only patient left, the seventh, she asks, "Has it started calming down yet?"

In response, a loud honking sound blares from the streets. "The military again?" she exclaims.

"They've brought four more infected patients!" CR-S01 briefs. "Can you do it?"

"I don't have any other choice!" Maria laughs anxiously, nervousness wobbling in her voice, refusing to get out. "Let's do this!" This brings her total patients back up to five, and the stabilized number to 8.

She faces her current patient, the ninth, and being very careful to inject the correct drug, she waits for the reaction and turns to the tenth patient.

The tenth one has infections and hemorrhaging due to secondary injuries. Using the scissors, she cuts open the clothes and finds a mass bruise under it and lacerations. Treating the lacerations but not having enough time to inject the drug, she switches to the eleventh patient, whose vitals are dropping quite rapidly.

Cutting his clothes apart, Maria finds a bruise spreading across his chest and abdomen area, and lacerations to go with it. Treating the blood pools and the lacerations as normal, Maria raises the vitals of both the ninth and tenth patients, turning to the twelfth, whose vitals are also dropping sharply to a 20. Not having enough time to go around and treating his lacerations or even the injection, Maria runs back to the ninth patient, whose reactions have appeared.

The yellow drug goes in. "Good!" CR-S01 nods. "Let's send this one off for transport!"

That leaves four patients left, from the tenth to the thirteenth. By now, the tenth patient's reactions have also appeared, a blossoming red, and one vial of that colored antiviral drug disappears.

"Get ready to administer a blood transfusion!" says Maria shortly. "Hurry up!"

CR-S01, trailing in her wake, hands her the transfusion line and she injects it into the patient's arm and wraps it with a bandage. "All right, perfect! Begin transporting her!"

Going around, Maria raises the vitals of the eleventh patient and turns to the twelfth, who has lacerations and convulsions still attacking. Bandaging them all, Maria frantically turns to the thirteenth patient, whose vitals are dangerously falling to a 6. Hastily injecting the stabilizer and cursing herself for the stupidity of not checking on her, Maria raises vitals up to a 41 and injects the reagent. Fixing the remaining wounds left on the eleventh patient and injecting the yellow antiviral reagent once more, Maria injects a blood transfusion line and yells, "Alright, this one's good to go! Take him away!"

Only the twelfth and thirteenth patients are left. Taking a deep breath and injecting the white reagent into the twelfth patient and the thirteenth one, whose colors are already appearing into a sky blue, Maria cries, "We're not gonna lose now! You're gonna make it! We will cure you!"

Returning to the twelfth patient, Maria injects the yellow drug into the right arm. "All right! Now to transport – what?" The patient gives a cough and goes still.

"Dammit! We've come so far! Starting chest compression!" Her hands shove up and down on the patient's chest, trying to resuscitate him. "We have a pulse! Starting intubation!"

She does so, frantically shoving the tube down his throat. "All right, he's good! Start transporting him!"

"I can do this!" she tells herself, turning to the final thirteenth patient. "What I'm feeling's nothing compared to their suffering!" She injects the blue drug as she does so, but before she can start transport... "It's ventricular fibrillation! Ready the AED!"

"Huh?" CR-S01 gapes, bewildered and looking around crazily. "I can't! They're all in use!"

"Damn!" Maria sobs. _This is the last one... _"Well, time for Plan B! You're not getting away, after all we did!"

Her hands, joined together, thwacks the patient right in the chest, bring her back to life. "All right! Her pulse has returned! Take her in! Treatment complete! This one can be carried out!"

"I'm going to help the other doctors!" CR-S01 informs her, feeling that Maria can handle everything by herself. "You let the others know the patients can be moved!"

"You can count on me!" Maria nods. "If things get hairy, I'll jump in, too!" To herself, she quietly mutters, "Dammit... how many people out there have this?"

"Maria, all you all right?" CR-S01's voice pesters. "We don't know if it's over yet!"

"Dammit, I'm at my limit!" she groans. "If there's any more, we're all in deep crap!"

* * *

"I'm done!" Maria calls, turning away from the wall she has been working towards and looks at the field before her. "Is the transport ready yet?" Her determined face etches sadly and she quietly whispers, "What the hell?"

The well-kept lawn of Resurgam First Care has been reduced to piles of red splotched all over it, for the field is covered in doctors handling their patients. Piles of bodies already have black triage tags, the ones the doctors had failed to save. The screams of the children and the young, matching the resisting voice of the doctors', rise into the air like a dark shadow taking flight. Grunts of pain blur into one another and eventually the din grows so loud, it's impossible to tell whose voice is whose.

Maria's face takes on a sympathetic look, but someone quickly grabs her arm. Gabe, his face all serious, demands, "Is it true you brought him here?"

Him. CR-S01. "Huh? What's that got to do with-" Maria starts, but gets cut off.

"No, no, you did a good thing," Gabe says quickly. "Get everyone, right now."

"What?" Maria cries. "Be serious! Can't you see what's going on here?"

"I see it just fine," Gabe snarls. "This avalanche is picking up speed. Every second costs lives. I'll be in the conference room."

"Dammit..." Maria muses this over, looking down at the ground.

Esha Patel runs up to her, face set in shadow. "What're you doing? Hurry up and go! I'll take over here!"

"What are you saying?" Maria exclaims. "I'm the paramedic! You should be-"

"Can you carry all these lives? Don't be so cocky. Go, Maria! Don't run away from your responsibilities!"

Maria stays still for a single second, and makes up her mind. "Hank! Tomoe! Everyone, get to the conference room!"

* * *

*hugs Missing Girl* THIS IS MY SECOND-FAVORITE EPISODE. After Carpet of Blue Death. :) Isn't this SO intense? All the time, First Response ~ Rosalia's Thorns is playing and it's literally screaming "OMYGAWDOMYGAWD VITALS ARE FALLING HE'S IN CRITICAL CONDITION! OH NOEZ BLACK TRIAGE TAG! CONVULSIONS! LACERATIONS BLOOD POOLS HEMORRHAGING INFECTION BROKEN ARMS SPLINTS BANDAGES IV TRANSFUSION GET HIM TRANSPORTED VITALS! VITALS FALLING!" THIS EPISODE RULES.

End of mass update. *sighs in relief* So in the space of five minutes, Seeking Atonement, Journey's End, Patient Zero, So Begins Death, Proud One, Stolen Memories, Spreading Infection, Chloe's Change, Demons and Death, AND Missing Girl all went up, and I right? That's 10 chapters... Now I'll go write Friends. :) Chapter Eight. And then Carpet of Blue Death, then Despair, then Time For Rejoicing, then Twisted Rosalia, AND THEN THE SEVENTH DOCTOR AND WE'RE DONE! *confetti flies*

Chronologically? Read the footnote for Patient Zero's prologue. (Yes, this was copied and pasted).

~fk


	52. PZ: VIII: Friends

**CHAPTER EIGHT  
**_Friends_

Hank Freebird

Alone.

Just the two of them, their looks so different yet so similar. CR-S01, his raven hair swept asides by an invisible wind that neglects the other figure completely, his red eyes losing their glint. The blue-haired Albert Sartre, eyes downcast, mouth turned down in a grimace. Both wear doctor's coats, but neither seem fit in them.

"I'm sure that you resent me," Sartre says quietly, and his words, so heavily affected by his French accent, wash over CR-S01 like a wave. Then it retracts, leaving behind tingling memories of the man he had once trusted, the man who destroyed his life. "It's so natural," Sartre continues, "I robbed you of your past... and future."

"I..." Unable to say anything, unable to choke out his thoughts, CR-S01's eyes slide to the corner of his eyes, as always. Penetrating through his myriad of dark thoughts is the deep affection that has haunted him for so long: "I... don't resent you. You gave me the life I had to begin with."

And in CR-S01's gaze, Sartre draws back into the dark veil he had sprung forth from. He tries to take a step forwards, but fails, and is held back by an invisible barrier. Hopelessly, Albert Sartre is reduced into the light of the day – and the pile of bones that is all that's left of the once almighty scientist.

"Professor Sartre..." CR-S01 whispers, finally released from his bonds, but it's too late. Sartre is gone, forever.

* * *

They stand there; some have their arms crossed, some hang theirs limply at their sides. But in their eyes and faces are hardened lines of the despair they have all gone through: terror haunting the already dim glow of their lights of life.

Naomi Kimishima's wavy silver hair stands out the most, for she is a stranger, one not frequently acquainted with. Hank matches her posture: arms hanging at his sides, but his face tight with lines of tension. Tomoe, beside her, have her arms crossed, wearing the same scowl she had worn that day of the bus incident. Gabe's hands are shoved into his pockets, but anyone can tell that he is suffering hard already.

But Maria is the one with the most determined face: her green eyes terrorizing in the blazing darkness, arms crossed arrogantly, ready to bring down any disease, and to get down to the mystery of it all, unraveling the truth at last. Rosalia.

The door opens and the final member of their trauma team strides in, his slim figure shadowing over the doorway. CR-S01 slowly walks in, feeling the gaze of five glances landing on him.

"Are you done?" Gabe speaks up as CR-S01 walks right past him, without the merest breath or disturbance in the air.

"Yes." It's as much as he can get out at the moment, in the pure shock of it all.

"All right..." Gabe nods. "Everybody here? RONI, take it away."

The computer isn't currently in the room, but as Gabe walks deftly up to the screen, the lights truly extinguish and the room is filled with the wash of blue light as RONI fills the entire screen.

"Yes, Doctor. Let us begin." RONI's voice is calm yet stated with authority as she delivers the news. "The outbreak began in Portland and has quickly spread. I have collated and analyzed all the information at hand."

"What?" Tomoe cries.

"Then..." Maria follows.

"So, do we know what it is?" Hank cuts in.

"A picture says a thousand words," says Gabe, shrugging, jabbing a finger at the screen. "Our guest of honor..."

The slide changes, and even Maria is taken aback. "Is that it?"

The picture is simple: blue stick-like things colliding against one another, though being stuck together is a more appropriate terms. "A Group V RNA virus of the Filoviridae family," RONI informs. "Yet, is nucleic acid does not match any existing data."

"So... is this a new type of virus?" Tomoe whispers, incredulous.

"That's right," says Gabe shortly. "We've named it the Rosalia Virus."

"Rosalia..." Hank plays with the alien world with his tongue, but beside him, Maria and CR-S01 are well too familiar with the name. Memories flash in their heads as they think of the once so sweet girl... she's too innocent to have created a virus this strong.

"Rose..." Maria murmurs softly.

CR-S01 says nothing.

"A medical professor at Cumberland College," Gabe continues crisply from the front of the room, "Albert Sartre, found it in the blood of a girl he had adopted. Ironically enough, he was infected by it and died."

CR-S01, still fresh from his recent encounter with the bones of Albert Sartre, shudders. They had gotten along well, but CR-S01 was never told the whole truth. He was left to be arrested and, probably, to die, at Cumberland College, as Sartre abandoned the son he had spent years raising... but did he deserve to die? Naomi had told CR-S01 about Sartre's last words, but was that enough to atone for the serious sin he has committed?

"Now listen up," Gabe snarls sharply. "This thing's life cycle has two stages. First, a dark stage where it replicates itself, undetected."

"Let me provide some additional information," Naomi jumps in. "In this stage, it fragments itself and infects cells, and there's no way for us to confirm the virus's presence."

"That means that only a process of elimination works," Tomoe adds.

"Correct," Naomi nods with approval. "The only sign is unexplained tumor formation. The Rosalia Virus inhibits the tumor suppression gene. The infected cell then replicates, forming a tumor."

"So, we can't see the virus, but it'll make tumors," Maria scowls, who is far too used to seeing the unnatural things from first response. "Great."

"No kidding," Gabe agrees gravely. "But, we're just getting to the best part. Once the latent virus replicates enough, the next step begins. The virus fragments merge into their full form, and then attach to organs and veins, forming colonies. A couple hundred million of 'em start eating nearby cells."

"Is that what those bruises are?" CR-S01 asks quietly, speaking up for the first time. His eyes are downcast, only momentarily flickering up at the screen. His ears hear more than his eyes can see.

"That's right," says Gabe. "Those black bruises are the dying cells' voiceless screams."

And CR-S01 remembers those patients. The so-called Kaposi's sarcoma operation Gabe had asked him to do, so long ago... black bruises had been clawing the infected area. Not to mention the same bruise he had encountered with Maria as he stormed into the Cumberland Medical Center...

Now all the doctors' heads are bowed; Maria can remember those horrible black bruises appearing just short moments ago; Hank reflects on his own battle with the discolored bones; Tomoe's breath coming in short whenever she thinks of the horrible eruptions of red on black under the bone fragments...

Among them, Gabe and Naomi are hit the worst. Although none of Gabe's patients had died in front of him, Samuel Trumbull from USAMRIID had indeed passed away. He can still see the _pigment spots _etched onto the patient's skin, those strange symptoms that had haunted him... but Naomi has suffered through worst. In her cases, the victims are already dead, from the virus, or killed by the infected. Veronica Cage, Alma Parker, Abby Parker, Stephen Eldred, and eventually, Sandra Lieberman, the trump card.

"It doesn't end there," Naomi whispers. "The colony continues to grow. Once the colony reaches a certain size, it bursts. There's no way to stop the viruses that break free... Veins, organs, bones... they devour anything they find."

Bathed by the eerie glow of RONI's enlarged form, Tomoe fiercely speaks up. "How can we save the infected? Is there any way to stop?"

"No such method exists," is RONI's solemn answer.

"Wha...?" Hank cries.

"That's right," says Gabe sullenly. "The patient has three days after the explosion. Excision of tumors and colonies won't eradicate the virus. And as there's no vaccine, all of America will die in a week."

"Seven days?" Tomoe gasps, shock in her voice. "That... can't be..."

"So we just give up?" Maria shouts, finally losing her temper at a nonexistent source. "Screw that! There's no way in Hell I'll-"

On the other side of the conference table, although all six surgeons stand, Naomi's cold yet calm voice interrupts. "No. We find the only possible option we have."

"Only option?" Maria repeats. "What possibilities-"

Maria and Naomi's bickering has sunken into CR-S01's head as he struggles to pull up something from his past. Again, Maria is interrupted by the young escapee. "An antiserum."

"An antiserum?" Hank quotes.

"I was considering that," says CR-S01, who knows this virus better than anyone, for he helped create it, and it's his responsibility to fight it, just like how Naomi fought GUILT to the very end after her Delphi days. "If the virus came from Rosalia, then she must've been infected with it at that point. But, she sent a letter to Maria three years later. Doesn't that sound odd to you?"

"Wh-What's so odd about that?" Maria answers, frowning.

CR-S01 looks down at the picture on the table. "There is no cure…" He says slowly. "Yet she was infected without falling ill. She's a natural host."

Tomoe's eyes widen. "Natural host!"

"An organism that coexists with an infectious virus." Hank adds, explaining.

"We'll need to get a sample of her blood for an antiserum." Gabe says, excitement shining in his eyes. "There's no other way!"

The doctors are stirring now in the anticipation of even a tiny flicker of hope; maybe it isn't over yet. Maybe they have one last source to fight from...

Maria's eyes gaze off into the distance. "Rose…" she says under her breath, thinking things through in her head. Suddenly, her gaze snaps back into focus. "W-Wait a sec! This place is under quarantine! Flights are grounded! How the hell are we gonna get to Mexico?"

"What else can we do?" Gabe asks, who had been briefed by her earlier on Rosalia's situation. "Sit here, do nothing, and wait to die? Impossible or not, we've got to do it!"

Then, the door swings open, startling fast, that all six doctors spin around in unison to face the stranger: "My helicopter is on the roof."

Gabe, surprised, spins around, to stare into the face of Agent Holden, who must've been eavesdropping fast. "We need it to get past the quarantine perimeter," the agent says, apparently having been listening the whole time, but never bothering to interrupt until now.

CR-S01, surprised, takes a step backwards. "You… Why are you here?"

"Once this is over, I'll have to arrest you. Got it?" the hostile voice replies harshly.

Gabe steps between the two men, staring each other down. "We all owe you one," he says to Ian Holden. "Thanks."

* * *

Inside the claustrophobic space of Agent Holden's helicopter, Maria, Ian Holden, and Naomi wait for the rotors of the helicopter to warm up. Why the three of them had been chosen, and why CR-S01 hadn't bothered to tag along to see his sister, are unknown, but obviously, saving lives to CR-S01 is so important, he'd sacrifice a long-anticipated meeting with his sister.

"Let's go!" Agent Holden says to Maria, who is sitting at the controls, as always.

"Yeah!" she answers, grinning, pulling up on the control stick.

The helicopter slowly rises off the pad on top of Resurgam First Care, leaving the remaining four doctors standing isolated on the roof: CR-S01, his eyes following the helicopter's path until it leaves the roof; Hank, tough and stricken; Gabe, still smoking; and Tomoe, arms crossed, a shadow passing over her face.

"All right, then," Gabe says, still staring up at the sky. "Shall we get back to business?"

"Indeed." Hank answers, staring at who-knows-where, since you can't see his eyes. "This is our fight now. We'll keep this place safe! Let's go!"

The four doctors: Gabriel Cunningham, Hank Freebird, Tomoe Tachibana, and CR-S01 walk back towards the elevator down, all of them wondering how their friends in the helicopter are doing.

* * *

"We don't have enough transfusion packs! Hurry, get more!" Esha Patel commands one of the OR Nurses. Then, she turns to see Gabe standing in the doorway. "You!"

"Don't glare at me like that." Gabe says. "We've got the transfusions."

Hank steps in behind Gabe. "Rosalia bruises on the back… might be spinal infection."

"All right, let's start." Gabe says. Then, to Esha, in an irritated tone: "You're in the way. Move it."

"What? Hey, guys…" But she's already gone from the room.

Gabe gives a sigh. "Phew. I can't put up with all that noise."

Hank gives a chuckle in reply.

Gabe frowns. "What's so funny?"

Hank just smiles. "I'm glad you're back. I'm going to rely on you."

"Heh. You're always making a big deal out of everything. Come on! Let's hurry and get this over with, partner!"

"Right!" says Hank, back to the business on hand, approaching the patient. But before he picks up a scalpel, though, Gabe interrupts.

"Yo, do you remember that odd patient we had to get charts for?"

"Odd patient?" Hank quotes. "Oh, the one with the spinal tumor!"

"Right," says Gabe, nodding. "This one's condition is very similar to that patient from before. I'm afraid it's the same focus."

"I see," says Hank slowly. "So, this patient also suffers from ependymoma?"

"Yeah," Gabe answers grimly. "There's no doubt about it. Handle the treatment with that in mind."

"You got it. Let's do this!"

Hank truly picks up the scalpel now, and opens the patient up. He quickly excises the three vertebral arches and opens up the dura mater. Time is the enemy.

The spine opens up, and they immediately find the giant tumor hidden within. Bit by bit, Hank excises the tumor, careful to not damage the outer walls of the dura mater.

_I'm not going to be beaten. I will save this patient, no matter what!_

Hank removes the last of the ependymoma, and Gabe nods in satisfaction. "Alright, we've treated the ependymoma. Now, let's move onto... hey, what's up?"

Hank has fallen silent, leaning back slightly. "That's not true," he murmurs.

"Not true? What are you talking about?"

"I remember now," he says, sweat trickling down his face, although the operation room isn't specifically hot. "It's the same as before..."

As if on cue, shadowy figures crawls onto the spine, so contrasting from the white bones it slowly takes over. The black fingers, clutching the spine within its deathly grasp, pulling it ever closer, refusing to let go.

The Rosalia bruises.

"Wh-What the hell is this?" Gabe cries. "The bruises are moving!"

Indeed, the black shadows waver back and forth, as if carried by the wind. "I knew it!" Hank mutters. "That patient had these bruises, too!"

As he says those words, another foreign _thing _creeps into the dura mater: a dark shape with veins attaching it to the spine it holds onto.

"It's finally shown itself," says Gabe, breaths coming in sharply now. "It's the virus colony!"

"I wish I knew more about it, before I try removing it," Hank whispers. "But... there's no other choice! Beginning extraction!"

He decides to detach it by severing the blood vessels that holds the tumor to the dura mater. The moment those are gone, he uses the forceps to extract the evil object hiding in the patient's spine.

"Alright, that should do it..." Gabe's next words are cut off.

"No, not yet. Something's coming... don't relax!"

Sure enough, another tumor comes, and this time, the blood vessels are moving, to the pulse and rhythm of the heart, and Hank has a really hard time removing them. Halfway through, the mucus created by the tumor connects the vessels again, forcing him to start over. Biting his lip and watching anxiously, Gabe cannot find something to do to help.

After two tries, Hank finally manages to remove it, and detaches it from the dura mater. Just when he thinks it's over, a third colony shows up.

"What the... this colony is different from the others!" Hank breathes.

"It doesn't matter!" Gabe orders sharply. "Whatever it is, we have to extract it!"

The third colony's vessels... are _moving._

With no choice, Hank is forced to learn the seemingly random motions the veins move in, trying to severe them without cutting the wrong thing. Several seconds slip by, and he begins to tire, losing the feel of the scalpel clutched in his gloved hands...

_Focus, _he forces himself. _You can do this. For your comrades. For your friends. For your patients. For humanity. You can save this life..._

He finally succeeds in severing the third vessel, and a fourth appears, only to be replaced by a fifth. Sweating profusely now, Hank can only struggle to keep the patient alive as Gabe injects another vial of stabilizer for him.

Finally, after what seems like eternity, the last vessel disappears, and both Hank and Gabe breathe a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, Hank starts drilling holes for the screws to go through, in order to close up the spine.

Screwing in the screws is old stuff, things Hank has several already, and then comes securing up the spine, with rods.

"The rod goes through the screws you just inserted," Gabe warns. "Watch the guideline!"

Hank smoothly guides the rods throughout the spine, and finishes the operation with the stapler. "All right... operation complete."

"You can't get excited yet, though," Gabe sighs. "There's still a lot of patients out there."

"Right!" Hank declares. "let's get this guy out of here and bring in the next patient!"

"Sheesh... we've got another patient incoming," Gabe mutters, watching the progress. "This is gonna be a pain..."

"Crying about it won't help anybody," Hank cautions. "Let's make sure we're ready!"

"You're so damn serious all the time," Gabe rolls his eyes, exasperated. "Looks like we don't have a choice...!"

* * *

"All right, this treatment's complete!" Gabe shouts, bending over another patient.

"Dr. Cunningham!" Emma shouts, running up. "This patient's convulsing!"

"Dammit..." Gabe snarls. "It just never ends!"

"Just go!" Hank shouts, sweat beading over his face. "Leave this place to me!"

"All right," Gabe agrees reluctantly. "I'll see you later!"

"Bring some ribivirin!" Hank calls after him. "Just in case we need it for next time..." His head lowers and inhales a deep breath, whispering: "Miss Kimishima, Maria... I believe in you! Come on..."

The field is still littered with the infected, the deceased, and doctors still running around. The only hope to end this pandemic is to find Rosalia – and all that rests upon the shoulders of Ian Holden, Maria Torres, and Naomi Kimishima.

* * *

I'm sorry, I didn't notice that I haven't updated in a month. (very sarcastic)

But seriously, sorry for the long wait. Today, on Sunday, May 29th, everything goes on. Everything. Seriously, if you're wondering why I took a month getting five chapters ready, let's just say that you should look at the word count for Carpet of Blue Death.

And why have I waited this long?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOCKINGJAYFIRE! *hugs* I WON'T KILL NAOMI FOR A WEEK! (and then kill her again)

Word count for this chapter: 3282 words.

~fk


	53. PZ: IX: Carpet of Blue Death

**CHAPTER NINE  
**_Carpet of Blue Death_

Naomi Kimishima

"Come on, come on! How much farther?"

Maria Torres's agitated scowl cuts through the midnight sky. The helicopter's blades are in a whirl, fighting to get itself to Mexico.

"I don't know!" Bathed in the dim light coming from the moon, Ian Holden, just as agitated, replies. "I've never flown a chopper to Mexico!"

"We're already in Mexican airspace," Naomi speaks up. "Now to find Rosalia."

"And how do we do that?" Holden snarls. "We don't have a clue where she is!"

"We have to think," says Naomi, struggling to get her foggy mind to work. She hasn't slept for the past twenty hours at least, and even her agile forensics mind cannot fight against the urgent scream of the blades. "How about showing people her picture?"

"Are you kidding me?" Holden howls. "Do you know how many villages there are?"

"Fine, Agent," Naomi scowls. "Do you happen to have a better plan?"

Maria, who sits in the copilot's seat, suddenly jerks her green eyes wide and points into the distance. "Hey! What's that?"

In the distance, and even in the dark night, a flash of color can be seen fluttering in the wind.

"Something flying," says Holden softly, breaking his argument with Naomi. "Are those... butterflies?"

It happens to be that at this very moment, the first edges of the sun creeps across the mountain horizons, bring the light of a new day to the world. It illuminates the orange color of the Monarch butterflies as they light up a trail across the sky, carving a golden path into the otherwise boring landscape.

"Wow," Maria breathes. "It's like a golden river flowing through the sky..."

"Danaus plexippus," Naomi whispers, being scientific again.

"Danaus?" Holden echoes, not sharing Naomi's knowledge. "What's that?"

"Monarch butterflies," she clarifies. "This must be their migration route. They can be seen every year in this season... beautiful."

Maria's tanned face turns into an intense color as the full blast of the sun hits her skin. "Monarchs..." she whispers, mind reflecting back to things from far before...

"_Monarchs only stay in America until the end of the summer," CR-S01's voice whispered, declaring the blatant truth. "At the end of the summer, the Monarch butterfly... they head south to find Asclepias to feed to larvae. Look at the picture. Monarch butterflies."_

_Maria looked at the picture in her gloved hand, sliding the thumb back to see the Monarch resting on a flower at Rosalia's knees. CR-S01 crept closer, and said the undeniable truth._

"_Yes. She's in Mexico."_

"The butterflies!" Maria cries, eyes not straying from the golden path. "Hey, buddy! Follow those butterflies!"

"What's with you?" Holden yells. "We can't just jump around at random!"

"It's not random!" Maria shouts back, Naomi frowning behind her. "There was a Monarch in Rosalia's photo! It's the same time of year, too! We can follow them!"

"Huh," Holden sighs. "Worth a shot."

"Right," Naomi echoes. "Agent, follow the trail of butterflies!"

* * *

Gone are the chopper's clacking sounds. Gone are the mysterious paths across the sky. All that's left is a meadow, a beautiful one, with rolling hills covered with flowers of bright spectrums of color: red, yellow, orange... Ian Holden lands the helicopter in the field, careful to not disturb the flowers.

"Over there," he calls, pointing a finger towards a patch of flowers. "Someone's over there!"

Not wasting any time, Maria jumps out of the helicopter, landing shin-deep in the flowers. Taking off immediately towards where Holden had indicated, Maria can make out the figures of someone – a girl – lying in the flowers... but...

The flowers surrounding her... are _blue._

"Rose...!"

Maria comes to a stop just at the borderline of the blue flowers, as if respecting the young girl's territory, but one look at her tells her that something is wrong.

From behind her, Naomi and Holden catch up, coming to a stop just behind Maria, eyes dropping down at the girl. They can tell from Maria's stiff body and silence that the girl is indeed who they were looking for.

"So, that's her..." Naomi sighs. Years of forensics experience has taught her things, especially when it comes to identifying those who are alive from those who are dead.

"Yeah..." Maria chokes out.

_Untouched by the world, a girl is laid to rest upon a bed of once-red flowers. Her name is Rosalia Rossellini. She sleeps forever… but she is very much alive._

_Monarch butterflies pay their final respects to the sleeping, dead-but-alive girl. Today they will flutter among her blue blooms, her final resting place, but tomorrow they leave for America._

_Today they find peace and refuge among her cerulean blankets, blissfully unaware of the deadly virus they hold within the golden pollen that dusts their wings as they fly by._

_Rosalia will never wake again. She deserves that much, for even the dead deserve to rest. But one part of Rosalia will never be content._

_The Rosalia Virus, a deadly pathogen that lies within her blood, still seeks revenge on a world Rosalia herself experienced so little of._

_Tomorrow… begins death._

"She's turned into adipocere!" Holden whispers.

Much of Rosalia is buried under the flowers, but she still wears the pink and white dress she had worn the day she died: Maria can recognize them from the visions she had seen of her. White hair laying down as a blanket to rest upon, hands folded upon her stomach in a final resting place, eyes closed in peace. Rosalia had never been buried, but surely, yes, she is gone, and dead.

"Damn..." Maria swallows, through her tears. "You've grown so big... I didn't recognize you..."

"What can we do?" Holden yells. "We can't get a blood sample from her!"

"Agent Holden," Naomi cuts in. "Please take Maria and search the facility."

"What're you going to do...?"

"I'll examine her," she says shortly, unsure if she is happy or not to use her experience. "I might be able to learn something."

"H-Hold on!" Maria cries. "We... we can't get a serum, can we? It's impossible like this! Then..."

"Then what?" Naomi says sharply, striding closer to Maria. "Are you going to wait for the world to end? Move. You're in my way."

The sky may be blue, and the Monarch butterflies may dance among the beautiful blue blooms, but soon Mexico will be swept over with the pandemic storming up in the north. Maria's scowl turns into a softer, reformed expression. Naomi strides past her instead, heading towards Rosalia. "I have my own way to hear her voice. Just like you," Naomi continues.

Maria's eyes widen, and she gasps in surprise. Then, she collects herself. "I… I'll leave Rose in your hands."

"Yes." Naomi replies gently. Then, as Agent Holden and Maria leave, she turns to look down at the mysterious girl in the blue flower field, "You're Rosalia? I've been looking for you for a while." Naomi sighs, gearing up for another poetic speech. "I wonder… when did people begin to mourn each others' deaths? It's funny. Everyone has to die someday."

Then, just as she expected, the cell phone clenched in Naomi's hand begins to ring. An eerie pink and purple mist drifts out, encasing Naomi's hand in the magenta light.

Naomi hesitantly raises the phone to her ear, not sure whether she wants to hear this girl's last words. What had she spoken in the last few seconds of her life, before her flame had been extinguished by the dark power of whatever that had killed her? But it is her duty to discover the victim's true story, and so, she slowly flips open the cell phone and raises it to her ears.

"Beginning…" The word comes out through the small speakers in a whisper, almost too faint to be heard.

Naomi slowly lowers the phone, returning it to her pocket. Faintly, she remembers what she had told Maria that day, so long ago: _You are the only one who can know the truth that you saw. You should at least remember that. _Maria had told her about Rosalia, the girl she kept on seeing, and the world she kept on murmuring: _Beginning_. The whole time, Rosalia had been saying the last word she had ever muttered... the beginning of the epidemic that origins from herself.

"I heard your final words. I'll make sure to pass them on, with the time I have…" Naomi doesn't elaborate on this cryptic statement, but instead goes to the helicopter, where her computer and equipment are waiting. This case has to be solved; the fate of humanity depends strongly on it.

Her phone rings, something so ordinary yet so unfamiliar to Naomi's crisis. Quickly flipping it open with her thumb, Naomi answers the call, recognizing the familiar number on speed dial.

"Testing, testing. Dr. Kimishima, can you hear me?" Little Guy's voice comes through the speakers, crystal clear.

"Yes, loud and clear," Naomi responds. "It looks like I can examine her normally." By _her, _Little Guy can tell that she means Rosalia, but...

Still confused, Little Guy says quickly, "You mentioned that in the email… what are you looking for?"

"If our information is correct, Rosalia was with Albert Sartre," Naomi murmurs slowly. "But we find Rosalia's corpse here. Isn't that odd?"

Little Guy shrugs, not sharing Naomi's wits. "What's so strange about that?"

"If Gabe brought Albert's corpse back from USAMRIID, then he would've died in Backcove, over 3000 km away," she explains. "What happened to these two must be brought to light."

He finally gets it. Rosalia was supposedly living with Sartre, but if Rosalia died in Mexico and Sartre died in Backcove, none of it makes any sense.

"But, will that make our situation any better?" Little Guy questions.

"Who knows?" Naomi answers grimly. "Rosalia's corpse has become adipocere. We can't get a serum."

"Argh." Little Guy rests his head in his hands, exhaling exasperatedly. "What a mess. This is it, then."

"No. These two must be related to the infection's source." Naomi insists, refusing to give up. "Filling in the gaps in the timeline will reveal the truth. That's what I believe."

Little Guy sighs, frustrated. "All right. I'll follow you to the very end."

"Thank you. I'm grateful for that."

Little Guy's microphone fills with static. "Uh, sorry, Dr. Kimishima. Can you repeat that? The transmission cut out there for a moment."

_What a coincidence, _Naomi laughs in her head. One of the few times she had ever given Little Guy a compliment happens to be the only time Little Guy ever asks her to repeat something.

"Adipocere… it occurs when bacteria do not multiply. It's beautiful." Naomi looks at Rosalia's body, not carrying out Little Guy's request. "As if she was still alive and with us... What's death, anyway? What does it signify? We cry when we are born… what about when we die?" Her voice hardens. "Let's begin. Show me the light that you were robbed of!"

And with that, Naomi Kimishima begins the autopsy of Rosalia Rossellini.

First, she investigates the body of the adipocere girl. "Rosalia Rossellini… the girl at the very center of the disastrous outbreak of infections. Let's begin. Time to expose the hidden truth." Naomi murmurs softly to herself, strolling around Rosalia's body, unsure of where to begin. Her body has been carried away, yet, it still rests in a bed of flowers.

First, Naomi notices the two-inch laceration on Rosalia's foot. "Hm… There's a cut on the bottom of her left foot. There's dirt in the area she was bleeding from. This means that she walked on the injured foot. Even more, she was walking in dirt." Naomi sighs. "It must've been very difficult for her to walk at all with this wound." This could be a vital clue.

Next, she moves her way up the body, noticing something else: a hole in the girl's leg, going all the way through to the other side. "This is an indication of having been shot with a gun. The bullet has completely passed through the body. The entrance GSW, gun shot wound, is where the bullet enters the body. Conversely, the exit GSW is where the bullet exits the body. Normally, the exit wound is larger than the entrance wound." Keeping that in mind, Naomi discovers which is the entrance and which is the exit GSW. "Hmm, that's right. This one would be the exit GSW." Naomi looks at the hole in the front of the girl's body.

Then, something catches her eye. In the center of Rosalia's chest…

"This…It's a bullet wound. Does that mean Rosalia was shot?" Naomi frowns; shot a _second _time? "It looks as if the bullet has passed all the way through her body." Naomi sees that the entrance GSW is in the front of the girl's body, while the exit GSW is on Rosalia's back.

While Naomi had turned the body around to study the exit GSW for the chest wound, she notes something else: "Hypostasis is present in the corpse's back. If I sent this in for analysis, we might figure out the position she was in when she died."

Naomi's eyes flicker down to the arms and gasps, looking at Rosalia's palm. "This is severe. Something's gone completely through the right palm." She leans in closer. "I can see fine, black particles around the wound, as well. Judging by the general condition of the body, this wound is a gunshot wound. But what would these black particles be?" she wonders, moving on in the investigation. _Black particles _have appeared before and Naomi has always figured them out. "Still, someone shot at her hand? Why would that happen?"

Still mystified, Naomi investigates the clothes Rosalia was wearing when she died. "Let's start looking at these right away. I should definitely be able to find something."

First, near the bottom of the dress, the once-beautiful pink-and-white laces torn up muddy and bloody. "This hole corresponds to the wound on her thigh." Indeed, a small hole is torn in the cream fabric, with varying shades of blood smeared around it. "So whatever injured her there created this as well."

Naomi's eyes slither up, and near the top of the dress, right in the center of the chest area, she finds a small hole, with a small blossom of blood around it. "This hole matches the wound on Rosalia's chest. It's likely that this was caused by the same thing that created the wound."

This does explain a great deal of things: the fact that Rosalia was shot while wearing this dress, and most likely died in it. After all, who can survive a gunshot to the heart without treatment immediately? But if she died immediately... bullets could be a crucial piece of evidence.

For the first time, Naomi notices something, distracted by her own myriad of thoughts. A few small splattered bloodstains, near the bullet wound on the chest. "Could this blood have come from the chest wound?" she breathes, leaning in closer. "There's something odd about it, though... It's splattered around. If it was hemorrhaging from the chest, it would only be coming from one area." She frowns, head cocked, thinking hard. "If it's spattered around this much, it means there's another reason for this hemorrhaging."

Having discovered all she could from the corpse, Naomi heads to the makeshift office set up in the helicopter. She begins to sort through the information she has gathered, on the computer she had fortunately brought along, and, of course, ask Little Guy for help. Well, more like giving him homework.

"Little Guy, could you analyze this hypostasis?"

"Yes, of course." The familiar voice answers. "Please send your data over to me."

"All right," says Naomi, in a voice too calm for a crisis like this, when all of the world depended on this. "Please look at it right away."

She drums her fingers impatiently, waiting for the few seconds it takes for her partner to analyze the data.

"Okay, I've got it." Little Guy answers, after another moment. "Let's see here… Well, the hypostasis matches the position Rosalia's body was in when she was discovered.

Naomi thinks that over, reciting the definition. "Hypostasis occurs when the blood flow throughout the body has stopped. The blood settles within the corpse, pooling in the areas closest to the ground. Thus, Rosalia's corpse was not moved. If the corpse had been moved, the hypostasis wouldn't match the position we discovered the body in. That place truly is where Rosalia drew her last breath."

"Oh, um, Dr. Kimishima?" Little Guy interrupts her poetry talk. "I have a question."

"Hopefully, it's something I have an answer for," she says bitterly, still drowned in her musings. "What is it?"

"Well, the blue flowers are only growing in that one particular area of the field, is that correct?" Little Guy asks cautiously. Naomi had described the meadow to him briefly, and specifically about the blue flowers blooming around Rosalia while the rest were warmer colors.

"Yes, that's right." Naomi answers, going along with Little Guy's train of thought. "Rosalia was found in the center of this area of blue flowers."

"Well, isn't that too much to be coincidence? It just seems so set up." Little Guy's voice is hesitating, as if afraid to get another lecture from Naomi about jumping to conclusions.

"I see," says Naomi, understanding. "What you're trying to say is that the killer moved her there."

"Yes. Doesn't that make more sense?" Little Guy asks.

"Hm. You may have a point," she admits. "Hypostasis begins to appear roughly 30 minutes after death. It's possible that her corpse was moved here immediately after she died, to create this situation."

"If that's the case, why would her killer do such a thing to her?" Little Guy asks. Murderers, such as in Dennis Taylor's case, tend to leave their victims on a bed to rot, and even the more graceful ones, such as Veronica Cage's case, had tried to throw her off a bridge. For Rosalia... someone had not only taken great care to not disturb her, and even to fold her hands and to set her at rest.

Naomi sighs. "We're just grasping at straws here. We'll need real evidence and facts in order to solve these mysteries," she answers irritably. Her lecture comes on anyways.

Before Little Guy can protest that she's just being a hypocrite, she picks up on another trail. "Hey, Little Guy. I need you to analyze this gunshot wound." Naomi sends over the information about the gunshot wound on Rosalia's hand.

"Yes, ma'am." Little Guy says hurriedly, quickly opening the file, glad that Naomi had spared him. "A gunshot wound to the palm… I see. The bullet entered through the palm and exited through the back of the hand. It seems she was raising her hand towards the gun when it was fired."

Naomi frowns. "Why would she put her hand up like that?" Then, she answers her own question, as usual. "To defend herself. A defensive wound is damage taken while trying to protect oneself from harm. She likely put her hands up as an instinctive reaction to having a gun pointed at her..." Remembering the question that had bothered her before, Naomi asks, "Little Guy, could you analyze these black particles?"

"Okay," he agrees, glad that he hasn't been forgotten. "Hmm… this is gunshot residue."

"Gunshot residue?" Naomi asks, irritated that Little Guy knows more than her.

"When a gun is fired, it launches more than the bullet," Little Guy explains eagerly. "Particles of gunpowder are blasted out of the barrel by the force of the explosion as well. When those particles land on the target being shot at, it is known as gunshot residue."

"I see," says Naomi, understanding. "So, since it was on Rosalia, that means that she was shot from very close range."

Thinking that over, Naomi decides to ditch Little Guy and go to Albert Sartre's research facility, the lab where he and Rosalia worked and lived. It could be interesting... if Rosalia was found in the flower field, she must've died within half an hour of the field. The house could be an extremely likely place to search.

Arriving at the scene, Naomi takes in the view around her. Bare rafters let in rays of sunlight that illuminate the room. All around, cabinets and desks hold a lot of lab equipment. The floor is cluttered with papers. Outside an open door, Naomi catches a glimpse of the beautiful field of Asclepias flowers, blanketing Rosalia's death.

"So this is Albert's research facility," Naomi says quietly. "There's so much equipment and material. It seems there are household items here, as well. I wonder if Rosalia was living here, too... First, I need to investigate the details concerning what happened here."

Looking around, Naomi can't tell much from the clutter. But something catches her eye. On the door, one of the glass panes is shattered, the starburst pattern covered with dirt and grime.

"Judging by the accumulation of dust, it doesn't look like this was shattered recently. This might not necessarily relate to this case, but it should be looked at, just to be sure." Naomi already knows that Sartre had died two years ago, but Rosalia... either way, no one has stepped into the house for several years, most likely.

Looking around some more, Naomi notices something on the floor: a small gold-colored container, near the door.

"It's a bullet case," she gapes in amazement. "What's it doing in a place like this?" she wonders. "There's a lot you can learn from a bullet case; I'd better have this analyzed."

She walks around the room, searching for clues. Near the bottom of one of the cluttered cabinets…

"These stains… it's blood," Naomi whispers, playing with the luminol. "There's a trail of it, too." And indeed, a small spattering of blood leads back to the door. "These weren't cleaned up. Could this mean these bloodstains were from when the incident occurred?" Naomi thinks. "Is this blood Rosalia's? Or…" She trails off, still mulling over the possibilities.

Still searching around, Naomi sees a familiar object. Another bullet case, identical to the one near the door, only farther in the room, lies almost invisible underneath a desk. "Is this another bullet case? Not a standard piece of lab equipment. If I have this analyzed, I might learn some more details about it."

Guns and fire are taking such a major part of this case now. Sighing, Naomi keeps on looking, determined to win this war once and for all. Somewhere in the distance, she can hear Maria and Holden yelling to each other as they try to get the old equipment working, but Naomi's mind is isolated, alone with her own wits. But even the smartest cannot overcome the greatest mysteries to be unraveled, and Naomi cannot find another object that's out of the ordinary.

Taking one last glance around the room, Naomi finally notices something on the floor that could at first pass for ordinary, but now come to think of it, may be a vital clue: an old-fashioned recording machine.

"Is this a voice recorder? I wonder if there's anything recorded on it." Naomi presses a few buttons, trying to get the machine to give up its secrets. "It seems to be broken. I hope the data inside can be retrieved."

If anyone had recorded voices from this recorder, perhaps it could be a clue: this virus Sartre was developing, what if he left recorded entries from it? Better yet, recordings from the dead girl herself...

Stepping outside, Naomi almost lands a foot on a pile of glass. "The glass on the door is shattered," she says out loud, quite obviously, yet she is so used to talking to herself, it's irresistible and has become a habit.

But then, she takes a closer look at the pile of shattered pane. "This is a bloodstain." She gingerly picks up a particularly sharp piece of glass with blood on the edge. _Could this be related to the case? I should get this analyzed at once._

Naomi heads back to the helicopter hurriedly to sort out the clues she found at the laboratory.

"Little Guy? I need you to analyze this," she demands, bursting into the helicopter and fumbling with the computer.

"Sure thing." Little Guy looks at the data Naomi had just sent him. "A piece of glass?"

"I found this near the entrance to the laboratory," she explains, inputing more data. "There's a trace of blood on it."

"I see… all right.," Little Guy agrees. "Can you give me some time?"

"Don't rush yourself, but I want to know as soon as you find anything out." Naomi says, cutting off the call. But then, she immediately calls him back, an action very typical of Naomi Kimishima.

"Hey, Little Guy? I want to know more about this bullet casing."

"Okay, let's see here." Little Guy examines the casing without even pausing to complain.

"Well? What can you tell me?" Naomi interrupts impatiently.

"First of all, it's a case for a 9 millimeter round," says Little Guy, taking his time. "Bullets that size are normally used in handguns."

"Hmm," grunts Naomi. "So it's not something rare that could be a big clue for us." _So much for that clue._ The same had happened with the knife used to "slay" Dennis Taylor.

"Unfortunately, that's correct." Little Guy only confirms the dreaded news.

"But why was a bullet casing on the floor inside a lab?" Naomi tacks on, ticked. "That question might lead us to some important information. Hmm... Little Guy? Could I borrow you for a moment?"

"Of course," he says openly, though squirms a little at Naomi's words of choosing, as if she's trying to make Little Guy feel awkward at a time like this. "Do you need something analyzed?"

"I found this bullet casing near the entrance to the room." She sends the information, hoping that the casing would be something more rare, but it's a negative. It's the same kind of casing that she found in the other area of the room: 9 mm casing, used in handguns all over the world, according to Little Guy.

Naomi sits down to puzzle over the clues, but she has barely started thinking when, _she_ receives a call from Little Guy, not vice versa as usual.

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima. I've found out something new."

"Hm?" Naomi grunts tiredly, mind wandering elsewhere. "Great. What is it?"

"Well, the bullet cases that you found under the desk and at the entryway both have a characteristic abrasion in the same area on their sides."

"A _characteristic abrasion_?" Naomi asks, confused. How much does Little Guy know about guns, out of everything?

"Yes," Little Guy explains. "Likely formed when the empty casing is ejected from the chamber after firing."

"It was… ejected…" Naomi thinks over her limited, tiny knowledge of guns, wracking her brain to the hardest. "Are you saying the gun was an automatic?"

"Well, the evidence suggests the use of a semi-automatic pistol, not a revolver," he shrugs.

"Hm." Still confused, Naomi confirms, "So, a casing is ejected after every round fired?"

"Yes, that would be the case," Little Guy answers.

"That would mean that the places where we found those shell casings were where a shot was fired," says Naomi excitedly. This could be pieced together with several clues, but Naomi, in a rush, scans the rest of her information,

Holding the recorder up to the screen, Naomi asks, "Hey, Little Guy. Do you think this can be repaired?"

Little Guy looks at the broken recorder with suspicion. "Whoa. This is one old recorder."

"I know." Naomi rolls her eyes in exasperation. " I want to see what's in this."

Little Guy sighs, but obeys. Several seconds later, he mutters, "Yikes. This can't be fixed. Not even I could do it."

Naomi sighs. "I see. That's unfortunate."

"Hey, wait a second." Little Guy cries, suddenly. "I can't fix the machine itself. But I might be able to get at whatever data's been saved on it. "

"That would be great. Can you get on that?" Naomi asks, almost eagerly. Scratch that, she _is _eager.

"Okay," says Little Guy hurriedly. "Can you connect the recorder to the computer over on your end?"

"All right, one second…" Naomi inserts the correct cables and wires, and the recorder beeps. "There. What's next?"

"You don't have to do anything else. I'm going to try taking a look at the data from here."

"You can do that remotely?" Naomi, who has apparently been living in the Stone Age for the past thirty years, sighs. "What an age we live in."

"Really?" Little Guy rolls his eyes, a snarky smile crawling onto his face. "It's not that difficult. Don't you know how to use a computer?"

"Zip it," Naomi snaps, her cold form returning. "Just hurry up and start looking already."

"Hey, don't get mad," Little Guy mutters. "You should be thanking me for this."

"What was that?" Naomi asks, although she knows perfectly well. Her voice has a cutting edge and a warning tone to it, telling Little Guy exactly what to say and what to do.

"Uh, nothing!" he says, covering up his words quickly. "I'm on it!"

"And?" Naomi arches an eyebrow, waiting for the results.

"Huh. Looks like most of the data's been corrupted." He keeps looking at the files. "Wait… this file might still be intact. We can play this one as it is."

"Hm," Naomi grunts. "All right. Transfer it over here."

"Right away. You're going to listen to it on your own machine, right?" he laughs anxiously, voice wobblng. "I'll name the file "record-01" and send it over to you."

"Good," she says, ignoring the joke. "I'll try listening to it. Does the rest of the data look like it can be repaired?"

"Hmm. I can't really say for sure myself," he says, and Naomi frowns in disappointment. "I'll talk to the lab techs about it. If the files can be reconstructed, I'll send the data over to you."

"All right," Naomi sighs. "I'll be looking forward to hearing some good news from you."

Little Guy leans back in his chair, cowering from Naomi. "No pressure, right?"

Naomi ignores him completely, and changes the subject rapidly. "Little Guy, can you have a look at this?"

"Sure thing!" he says, wary of Naomi's cold tone. "Is this… glass from a door?"

"Yes," she says. "It's from the entrance to the laboratory. Can you tell me anything about it?"

"Hmm… we'll have to see," says Little Guy, eager for something simpler to do. "I'll take a look at it."

"Please do," says Naomi. "Tell me when you've got anything... oh, and also, I found a bloodstain on the floor here," she adds. Maybe that can help.

"A bloodstain? Isn't it just another one left by Rosalia?" Little Guy guesses, and instantly regrets it.

"Hmm… making assumptions is a dangerous habit," Naomi says in a superior tone, being a hypocrite yet again. "I need you to go over this in detail."

"Got it," he says, not daring to point out the hypocrite part. "I'll have to receive the data from the helicopter's equipment and merge it with what we have here. Then I'll have to use that to come up with analysis results. Is that okay?"

"Will it take time?" she asks worriedly, eyes glancing at her watch. Several precious minutes have passed already. "We're racing against the clock as it is."

"Yes… but I'll try to hurry it along," he says quickly. "There are more and more patients piling up here."

Naomi sighs bleakly, and agrees. What's use in arguing? You can't fight against time, and this is one of the times when the Healing Touch is useful, even if it's just for a short split second. "All right. Contact me when the results come in."

Leaving Little Guy alone with his piles of homework, Naomi goes to listen to the reconstructed recording. Pressing the play button softly, she hears a heavy French accent coming through the speakers, the voice of Albert Sartre.

"_Recording started, August 7__th__. Two days ago, I verified the sample collected from the biopsy. I have succeeded in extracting the virus, and will begin cultivating it as a sample. Compared to mononegavirals, there are 24 similarities found, and..."_

The voice cuts off, replaced by a young girl's voice, sounding exasperated. Naomi's heart goes cold when she recognizes the voice; it differs from the one she has heard before, but there's no doubt about it. The speaker of the voice is Rosalia Rossellini.

"_Dad! Hey, Dad! Sheesh!"_

"_R-Rose! Give that back!"_ Rosalia seems to have snatched the recorder from her father, and her voice sounds extremely irked as Sartre makes desperate sounds in the recording.

"_No! It's time for dinner!" _she replies, just as fast.

"_Oh, is it?"_ Albert's voice shrinks back, fallen and weak at his defeat. He chuckles, "_I didn't even notice. I'm sorry."_

"_Sheesh… you never hear me when you're working! No more work for you until we're done eating!" _Rosalia's words are harsh, but she seems to be smiling, too.

Albert laughs again. "_Well, you've got me. I accept my defeat. All right, let's go to the dining room. What's for dinner today?"_

"_Yay! Dinner, dinner!" _Rosalia's voice gets fainter and fainter as she moves away from the recorder, presumably skipping towards the dining room and leaving her father behind.

"_H-Hey! Don't run! You'll trip and hurt yourself!" _Albert cries after her, and the recording comes to a stop.

Naomi sits in the helicopter, thinking over the happy life that Albert and Rosalia had. They seemed so happy, like a proper family whose happy days would never end. But as everyone knows and realizes, forever will die... _What could have made it all go so wrong?_

Naomi is jerked out of her stupor and collected thoughts by her cell phone ringing (the regular one).

"Dr. Kimishima, we've finished the analysis on that bloodstain," says Little Guy.

"You mean the bloodstain that was on the floor?" Naomi asks, her train of thought changing directions. "Great. What were the results? Was that Rosalia's blood after all?"

"Actually, about that..." says Little Guy slowly, "It didn't match her DNA."

"Hmm..." Naomi hadn't anticipated this. If it isn't Rosalia's blood... "Then, whose?"

"That blood was Albert Sartre's." Little Guy lets that sink in for a second, and a moment of silence comes between the two.

"What?" Naomi gasps, brows furrowed in deep thought. "It's Albert's blood?"

"There's no mistake," says Little Guy softly. "I compared it with the DNA we examined before."

Naomi thinks this over. "Then, does that mean Albert was also injured, like Rosalia?"

"I don't know about that," says Little Guy; Albert's corpse had been found as a skeleton. "But, considering that Rosalia had been shot…"

"Was he also shot?" Naomi murmurs under her breath, not letting Little Guy hear her conjectures.

Little Guy hears her, and pointedly coughs, "Dr. Kimishima."

"We don't know if that's the case yet. We can't know until we investigate this." Naomi continues, completely neglecting Little Guy. "This bloodstain… it'd be best if I looked into it for more details."

Realizing that she needs more evidence to piece everything together, Naomi decides to go outside to the Asclepias field, the meadow of flowers that had almost completely buried Rosalia. Naomi's shoes crunch against the flowers and into the rich soil as she carefully picks her way through the beautiful blooms, as if trying to preserve what so little is left of Rosalia Rossellini.

She walks around, searching for clues in the yellow, orange, and patch of blue flowers. What she spots underneath the layer of flowers is remarkable, and it's so tiny and small, it must've been sheer luck that she had found it at all: inside the patch of blue in the landscape lies a familiar object.

"Another bullet casing here!" Naomi breathes incredulously, picking it up. "I almost didn't see it among all these flowers... This may be an important clue."

With the bullet casing in her hand, glinting off the sun's morning rays, and reflecting off of Naomi's pale blue eyes, she tries to look deeper into the case. This is the third bullet casing yet... does that mean three shots were fired? Of course, Naomi's eyes may not be sharp enough to spot other casings, if there are any, and it's dangerous to assume, but definitely one thing can be determined here: three shots were fired around this area.

There were three bullet holes in Rosalia's body...

Shoving that thought out of her mind, Naomi heads back to the helicopter to investigate, struggling to cope with this overflow of information. As she thinks it over, she receives a call from none other than Little Guy.

"Uh, Dr. Kimishima," he says. "The analysis results are in."

"Good. Which analysis was this?" Naomi asks.

"It's for the glass from the door at the entrance," he responds.

"All right," she says fairly. "Tell me what you've got."

"Right." Little Guy gathers his information, clearing his throat. To anger Naomi now would be a really, really bad idea. "We've analyzed the broken glass. We can determine the direction the glass shattered in from the stress marks on the edges of the fracture."

"Stress marks?" Naomi asks, looking for clarification.

"It refers to the marks left on the inner edges of a fracture line when the glass is broken," he explains. "The direction of impact can be found by studying the stress marks on the fractures."

"Is that so? And what did you find?" Naomi asks.

"Well, the glass wasn't shattered from the outside," he says, squirming in his seat, making no sense of this either. "The blow that broke it came from inside."

"Inside?" Naomi asks incredulously, eyes narrowing despite the discovery of the new news. "So nobody shot into the room from the outside, then?"

"That appears to be the case." Little Guy almost hangs up, his dead done (remember, he still has a ton of homework left), but then remembers something. "One more thing about that glass. We weren't able to find any evidence like fingerprints or gunshot residue on it."

"I see. So, the glass was shattered from the inside out." But when Little Guy had mentioned _gunshot residue, _Naomi remembers something, the very thing she had wanted to tell Little Guy earlier. "Hey, Little Guy. I found another bullet casing."

"It's a real battlefield there, huh? Let's take a look at it." Little Guy's voice sounds like he has been expecting this, or at least, not surprised at all. "Well, just like the other two casings you found, this one has similar markings on it. It was likely fired from the same gun as the other two."

Naomi cocks her head at this. "One bullet was shot outside, while the other two were fired indoors. Why was the gun used there? That seems like an important fact to know..."

She takes a deep breath and starts piecing together the clues, notably the three bullet casings she had found. "If a bullet was fired near where we found the shell casing, the question is which direction the bullet went. First, we should consider the number of times the gun was fired: inside, the gun was fired twice. But…"

Naomi frowns, looking out the helicopter window at the lodge that lies in the distance. "There isn't a single bullet or bullet hole in this room. Other than the cases, the only other indication of the gun being fired indoors is that the glass at the entrance was shattered from the inside out..." Coming to a realization, Naomi cries, "There is a possibility that a bullet fired from indoors broke the glass! If so, then the person who fired the gun would have had to be near the desk. If the glass had been shattered from a close-range shot, there would have been gunshot residue on the door and window." And according to Little Guy, there were none. "Thus, the bullet that broke the glass was fired from further inside the room, near the desk." At this point, her voice hesitates slightly as she whispers out the next words: "A shot from indoors, fired towards the outside… Is that what happened here…?" Naomi trails off, lost in thought. Absentmindedly, she puts together more pieces of the puzzle.

"Little Guy, can I talk to you?"

Little Guy, as always, answers immediately. "Yes, what is it? Can I analyze something?"

"Yes. I'd like to know more about this bloodstain," she says distractedly, eyes still wandering off into the distance.

"Is that Albert's blood?" Little Guy asks, and remembers that there was only one bloodstain found. "Okay. Please wait for a bit."

"Fine," she says crossly. "I'm going to continue with my investigation."

Knowing that there's not much to ask Little Guy until more test results come back, Naomi goes back to her old traditional way of figuring things by herself:

"Yes, if I think about that happened at the time of the murder, these do have a common link." She looks at the evidence scribbled all over her papers. "These fine bloodstains spattering Rosalia's clothing… this hemorrhaging was most likely caused by the defensive wound on Rosalia's palm. The killer turned his gun on this girl and pulled the trigger. That bullet tore through the hand she held up, ineffectually trying to ward off the blow. It then continued into her body, piercing her heart." Naomi sighs. _Who could do such a thing to an innocent girl? _"The fine bloodstains were from the blood that came from her hand."

Swallowing hard, Naomi remembers the assumptions she had made earlier: three gunshots, three bullet holes in the body. But now that she has learned that one bullet had caused two of the injuries... does that mean one bullet never hit her at all? Again, it's still too early to make assumptions, but the gunshots and wounds... could be a vital clue to what really happened the day Rosalia died.

She thinks hard about the wounds she found on Rosalia's body, specifically the shot in the chest. "The entrance and exit wounds tell us what happens when someone has been shot. In this case, the victim was shot from the front. The bullet entered through the chest, created the entrance GSW. It then passed through her body and out her back, creating the exit GSW. This proves that she had been shot from the front."

Now, for the other wound, on the leg. "The back of the thigh is the entrance wound, and the front is the exit. If that's the case, then the victim was shot from behind. The shooter was behind the victim when she was shot. In any case, the wound on the thigh isn't the same size as the wound in the chest. Could this mean that two different firearms were used?" Naomi remembers then that her knowledge of guns is limited. _I think contacting Little Guy and asking him to look into this would be my best option here._

She makes the call, reluctantly. "Hey, Little Guy. Can I ask you to analyze this information?"

"You need me to look at the gunshot wound in the leg, right?" he asks, having overheard her. "Okay, just wait." Little Guy begins to input the data.

Knowing that she has other work to do and there's no time to waste, Naomi hangs up, saying, "Thank you. Let me know as soon as you're done."

Then, to herself, she talks through the evidence. "In any case… whoever shot Rosalia… why did he do it?"

Making another call right on top of the other, Naomi abruptly says, "Little Guy? Analyze this chest wound."

"Understood." Little Guy says, matching Naomi's tone, not the slightest ticked at Naomi's five-second interval calls. "Hmm… this is a penetrating bullet wound from a firearm?"

"That's right. Rosalia was shot." Naomi confirms. As if Little Guy doesn't know it.

"The bullet entered her chest and went through her heart. I don't think there was any doubt that this was a fatal wound."

"I see." Naomi says, her suspicions confirmed. Rosalia died of guns and fire. "The question now is, who pulled the trigger?" Her eyes narrow. "The events of Rosalia's death are becoming clear...

"First, the cause of death. The wound that killed Rosalia was a gunshot to the chest. The bullet that went through her chest struck her heart, ending her life, and we know that the fatal shot came from the front; the entrance and exit wounds tell us the path of the bullet through her body. Rosalia was alive just before this shot, as well. The wound on her palm is a defensive one, caused by her trying to protect herself from the gunshot.

"Her right hand also has another piece of important evidence; that is the gunshot residue on her palm from the shot that killed her. Gunshot residue is left behind on targets that have been shot at close range. We can tell that Rosalia had been shot in the chest from a short distance away." Naomi sighs sadly, resting her head in her hands. "What would drive someone to be so determined to kill Rosalia?"

All of Naomi's other cases had clear intents on the murder. The electrician wanted Dennis Taylor's drugs. Veronica Cage's parents hadn't been trying to kill her, it was just the disease taking place, the same disease taking over the world at this instant. Alma Parker had wanted to lead her daughter and husband to freedom, influenced by the brain tumor... and the Raging Bomber was driven mad by the same virus that had killed so many... who would want to take the life of a young girl?

Naomi sees another piece of evidence that can be fitted into the puzzle: the casing. "This casing was found in the blue flower field, and this tells us that a shot was fired here. Plus, this is the place that Rosalia was found dead, and the cause of death was a close-range gunshot through the heart. Thus, Rosalia was killed here."

Yes. The whole time, Naomi had known it: the red marks on her back matched the position she was in. But this also means that Rosalia died in the field of blue flowers... why? Is it too much of a coincidence for her to fall right in the middle of the blue flowers? Asclepias tuberosa doesn't grow in blue, so what kind of things have happened here?

This is Naomi's first piece of solid evidence, but she doesn't feel like she has found out the most important information yet. The real question is, "But who?" Who did it? Who has a motive to kill such an innocent and young girl?

A call comes in from Little Guy, the beep so out of place in this bright yet gloomy world. "Ah, Dr. Kimishima! The analysis on the glass shard has been completed!"

"You mean the shard that was found near the entrance?" Naomi asks, just to clarify things. "Did you figure out whose blood that is?"

"Yes," says Little Guy. "At first, I thought it might be Albert's, like the bloodstain on the floor. But, it seems that the blood on the glass shard came from Rosalia."

"Rosalia's?" Naomi asks, pieces clicking together in her mind. Rosalia... Sartre... both had spilled blood in the house. How? Why?

"Yes. The DNA matches," says Little Guy darkly. "There's no doubt."

"Rosalia left a bloodstain indoors as well." Naomi thinks about this and what could have caused it, but can't think of any reason why. "What in the world does this mean?"

Exasperated, Naomi examines the glass shard from the door, trying desperately to clutch onto some hope. She looks back and forth from the glass shard to the other pieces of information, and...

"This glass shard was found on the floor near the entrance, which came from the glass on the door after it had shattered. That piece of glass had Rosalia's blood on it, and her corpse's foot had a cut and signs of hemorrhaging on the bottom, as well. This most likely means that Rosalia stepped on the broken glass and cut her foot. From the amount of hemorrhaging, she must have injured it just before her death."

It should be a safe assumption, unlike Little Guy's wild ones (but some were logical, although Naomi would never admit that). If Rosalia had cut her foot in a way not related to her death, she would've had an extremely hard time walking. The cut wasn't sutured up, or treated at all. Naomi presumes that Rosalia did cut her foot on the shard of glass, for now.

"These do give us something we can draw a conclusion from. When the glass on the door shattered, Rosalia was standing inside the lab. Rosalia cut her foot on the broken glass. This proves that she left the room after the glass broke. Hmm…" Naomi thinks about that, hesitating for a split second before continuing her theory. "Rosalia's foot was cut right before she died. Given the fact that there aren't any more bloodstains from her inside the room, Rosalia headed outside immediately after cutting her foot on the glass. In other words, Rosalia was running away from somebody. She most likely avoided the shot and ran from the room. The gun was obviously being pointed at her. The shooter had been aiming at Rosalia all along. That's why she ran from the room. In doing so, she stepped on the broken glass, injuring her foot. That is what happened at the entrance to this room."

Now that Naomi knows some of what had happened, her heart is clenching tighter and colder around her chest. A painful spasm gives out, and she takes in a deep breath, ignoring the dormant disease lying inside her that isn't so dormant anymore...

"Two shots were fired from inside this room. If neither of them were from somebody shooting into the room, and someone inside was targeting Rosalia, then…"

Naomi's phone beeps, jerking her out of her thoughts. "Little Guy. What is it?"

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima. We've located the lock."

Lock. Naomi hasn't asked Little Guy about a lock yet, and much less found a key.

"The lock?" Naomi echoes her thoughts, confused, and thinks back over the past few days. _What lock?_ After a few awkward seconds of embarrassment, she remembers. "Oh, you mean the lock that goes to the key found in Albert's clothes?"

Now it's all coming back to her: the Sartre skeleton recovered in Backcove had a key in one of its pockets. She had asked Little Guy to investigate it, but she had wrapped up the case before Little Guy could find out. His techies must've been working on it all along, which usually would've ticked Naomi for wasting time on a completed case, but now, she is grateful for it. Whatever's behind the lock could be a vital clue to the Rosalia case.

"Yes. It was a safety deposit box in a bank," says Little Guy, hearing Naomi's sharp gasp on the other side. "We've already taken it and the contents inside."

"Good. What was inside it?" Curious, Naomi leans closer to the phone, as if a few extra millimeters will help her hear the news faster. Well, it would, but it wouldn't make much of a difference.

"A 9-millimeter handgun." Little Guy pauses, letting that sink into Naomi's already confused mind before continuing. "Albert Sartre's fingerprints were found on the grip, as well." Little Guy takes a shallow breath, swallowing before he delivers his theory. "Could it be that the person who shot Rosalia was…?" He trails off, letting Naomi make her own connections.

Naomi reels back from the desk in shock. _This throws a new light on the case._ Albert Sartre, the man CR-S01 had described as a demon, but was a caring adoptive father. Albert Sartre, the creator of the Rosalia Virus, and the father of Rosalia herself. Albert Sartre, the beloved man to his daughter... it's not possible for someone who _loved _Rosalia to kill her, right? Alma Parker had loved her daughter and husband, but it was the tumor that drove her to madness... was Albert Sartre going mad too? It's so unbelievable and seems so abstract and impossible, that Naomi almost refuses to believe it... but the truth doesn't lie.

Collecting her thoughts, she says, "Let's confirm something before that. Was the gun loaded?"

"Yes. The magazine holds seven rounds, and it's possible to keep an additional round chambered," Little Guy answers. "When the gun was found, there were five rounds in it."

"Five shots," Naomi repeats. "So, the maximum number of bullets that could be missing from it is three rounds. And, if the gun is missing three bullets, then that number corresponds to the number of shots used here. That's the same number of cases that were found here." Her voice is icy, with a chilling linger of truth attached to it.

Both Naomi and Little Guy take a few seconds to think it over. Naomi's mind is reeling with the new informatin; just a few mere moments ago, she was in a helicopter, unknowing, clueless, but now... she's almost there. Almost to the truth.

"Uh, Dr. Kimishima. If I may?" Little Guy asks slowly, hesitating with each syllable.

"Yes, what is it?" Naomi answers absentmindedly

"Well, luckily, the gun is in condition to fire," he says. "If you can find one of the bullets from the scene there, we can use the rifling to determine if it had been fired from this gun."

"Nonsense." Naomi dismisses the idea without it even grazing her mind. She might've been lucky to find the bullet casing among the flowers, but, "You expect me to find something that can fly over 250 meters a second?"

"Well, yes, I know it might be a long shot, but…"

Normally, Naomi would've retorted something like _If you think it's so easy, go look for it yourself! _But seeing how Little Guy is something like three thousand miles away and the fate of the world rests in Naomi's eyes, she swallows and accepts.

"Looks like I don't have a choice." Naomi snorts, cutting Little Guy off. "I'll let you know if I do find one."

"Please do. I'll try to come up with a different plan from here."

After sitting around thinking uncomfortably for a while looking over information before she heads out into the fields, Naomi is startled when her phone beeps again. "Dr. Kimishima, we've received the results of the analysis."

"Good. Is it about the differences between the chest and thigh wounds?" Naomi guesses.

"Are you some kind of psychic superspy or something?" Little Guy grins, laughing at his own joke. "Creepy…"

Naomi's eyes narrow, and she frowns, not sharing Little Guy's laughter and humor. "You'll pay for that slip of the tongue, Little Guy." Her voice is kept level, and her words are chosen carefully, but underneath runs a tone of malice that spells out trouble for Little Guy. _Big _trouble.

"Whoa! S-Sorry!" Little Guy hastily makes amends, trying not to get fried by Naomi's death glare from three thousand miles away. "It was a joke!" he explains.

"Hm. Fine. But I'll remember that." Naomi decides to get off the subject of her psychic powers, and back to the case; there's no time for fooling around. "Just tell me what the report says."

"Oh, y-yes!" Little Guy stammers gratefully for getting off the hook. "Uh, regarding the comparison between the two wounds… looking at them, it appears that both wounds were made by the same caliber of gun."

"Hmm." Confused, Naomi challenges Little Guy to his research. "But the wounds are of different sizes."

"Yes, it's possible for wounds to be differently-sized, even from the exact same gun." Now Little Guy is duelling Naomi's wits.

"How can that happen?" _Maybe this will help with the case, anyhow. _"The reason I can think of is…" Naomi thinks for a second, then makes her logical guess: "The bullets were shot from different distances, weren't they?"

"Way to go, Dr. Kimishima!" Little Guy cheers.

Naomi's voice is hostile. "Sucking up to me won't spare you from my wrath." Apparently, she hasn't gotten over the joke from earlier yet. Knowing her, she most likely never will. If that's so, then Naomi probably still remembers the hundreds of conversations she had with Little Guy that had all gone wrong; and there's grudges to be held for all of them.

"Ugh." Little Guy sighs, coming to the same realization himself.

"Keep telling me about the report," Naomi commands.

"R-right," he stutters. "Comparing the wounds in the chest and thigh… the shot that struck her thigh was from a greater distance. If the chest wound was made from close range, the other shot would have been fired from about 8 meters away.

"It seems that there's a big difference in the way she received both of these wounds, then," Naomi nods, understanding.

Little Guy goes back to finishing his analysis, and Naomi goes back to clue-sorting, and clue-hunting.

"Rosalia had a laceration on her left foot, and a gunshot wound in her right thigh. She was in no condition to walk; her foot had been injured by stepping on the broken glass at the entrance to the lab. And, when she was shot in the leg, she was standing in the field of flowers. Rosalia collapsed when she was hit in the leg... There's only one place in this lab a shooter could have been standing to shoot Rosalia in the field. That is from the entrance to the lab, near the door. The bullet that hit Rosalia's thigh went completely through. It'll be difficult to find that bullet…"

But Naomi decides to follow Little Guy's idea and find the bullet. After all, there's nothing else to do, and if Albert Sartre, Rosalia's beloved father, had truly killed his daughter, she has to find out why. For the survival of the human race, for the sake of her own sanity, and for Rosalia... _the dead are alive too, in a way we never know it._

"The bullet that ended Rosalia's life… looking around randomly for it won't get me anywhere," Naomi thinks out loud, scanning the field carefully. "The number of bullets that were fired at this scene is a total of three shots. One shot in the flower field, one was by the desk, and another at the entrance. That's a total of three shots fired. Of these three, the shot in the flower field was fired last. The bullet shot in the field is the one that killed Rosalia. If it was before then, then she couldn't have stepped on the glass and there would be no need to shoot her leg. Then, when Rosalia was killed, she was collapsed on the ground." Naomi crinkles her forehead in deep thought, realizing something that could be vital.

"Wait... Rosalia was lying on the ground when she was shot!" Naomi's eyes widen. "She couldn't have been standing with those injuries to her foot and leg. So the shooter must have been standing above her, shooting down." Naomi thinks for a second. "The bullet that went through her chest must be…"

The bullet couldn't have landed far, if Rosalia was lying down when she was hit. Acting on her hunch, Naomi returns to the blue flower field. She steps gingerly around the beautiful blue flowers, matching blue eyes narrowing against the sun's glint, looking for anything that reflects the light... Then, there! Buried in the ground below where Rosalia's body used to lie is an object, foreign in the peaceful meadow, something that hints of blood and death.

"Here it is. This… is the bullet that killed Rosalia." _Such a small thing to snuff out a life so quickly… and it seems so harmless..._

"The bullet's in good condition," says Naomi quietly. "We'll be able to check the rifling on it."

She slowly digs her cellphone out of her pocket and punches in the number on speed dial: Little Guy's number. He may be honored to have his number on Naomi's speed dial, but then again, her number is on his phone, too.

"Hey, Little Guy. I found what you wanted," says Naomi briskly.

"You managed to find a bullet!" Little Guy cries incredulously; he hadn't expected Naomi to find it, because something so small could be easily lost among the beautiful blooms... to find it, you wouldn't be human, but then again, Naomi has taken a great leap from human to another being. "I don't believe it!"

"You don't?" Naomi smirks, her humor for teasing Little Guy coming on. "I'll just throw this thing away, then…" Her voice is lighthearted and casual, obviously a joke and definitely not going to be carried out as true, but obviously, Little Guy falls for her trick and lands at her mercy.

"No no! No, no. C'mon, Dr. Kimishima! I need that! Seriously!" He rolls his eyes, exasperated at both Naomi and himself, once he realized the trap set for him. "Sheesh. You knew what I meant."

"Did you say something?" Naomi asks innocently, smiling secretly on the other end.

"N-No! I'll start analyzing it right away!" Little Guy answers hastily, scrambling away from all Naomi-gazes as possible. "Hmm…"

"Did you check the rifling?" Naomi asks impatiently, only giving him a few seconds.

"It's a perfect match." Little Guy answers, amazed.

Naomi's eyes widen, her breath coming in fast now. "So that means…"

"Yes. There's no doubt at all that the bullet was fired from Albert's gun."

"What in the world caused all this to happen, though?" Naomi asks, not to Little Guy, but to the flower field, and Rosalia's body, wanting them to give up their secrets. _Why? _A family that was so happy together, the three of them... Albert Sartre, Rosalia Rossellini, and CR-S01. It was just the virus that had torn them apart, turning the young doctor into a prisoner confined to the depths of a dark and cold cell... the same virus had killed Albert Sartre... what would've caused this to go so wrong?

"Ah, yes. We can use these clues to find a deeper truth," Naomi states shakily. "Dr. Sartre left a gun in a safety deposit box. Its rifling perfectly matches the bullet that killed Rosalia. What this shows is…"

Naomi stares at the screen, willing this not to be true, but yet it is. "Yes… Albert Sartre killed Rosalia." She looks sadly out at the flower field, so beautiful and holding that enriching smell, yet it still carries actions of guns and blood and murders and deaths, a sign of a family torn apart from its once everlasting pride. "Rosalia and Albert lived together, like a true family. What happened between them?" _So many questions, so few answers..._

Naomi's phone gives its familiar beeping tone, the signal of a new call. Naomi answers quickly; time is running out, and she is powerless to stop it.

"Oh, Dr. Kimishima. About the recorder…" Little Guy says, through the speakers.

"What is it?" Naomi hurriedly asks.

"We were able to reconstruct one of the sound files."

"Good." _More clues. This is another step closer_ "Can you tell when the recording was made?"

"Well, it seems to have been recorded after the one I gave to you before. But…" Little Guy trails off.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"It's like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde…" Little Guy mumbles, too low for Naomi to hear, and too childish for her to understand. "Oh, uh, sorry," he quickly apologizes, realizing that he's on the verge of another lecture. "Anyway, please try listening to the new recording. I've sent it over to you in the file _record-02_."

"All right, I'll make sure I hear it." Naomi says, already grabbing her recorder and opening the file.

"_Ha… hahaha! It's over… it's all over!" _The voice is clearly Albert Sartre's, but different, too. It has a note of hysteria in it, like someone who is almost giddy… or has been driven insane. "_I-I thought I'd found God's child…b ut it was a misunderstanding! It wasn't God… The Devil… It's the Devil…"_ The crazy laugh returns, the sinister chuckle ringing through the speakers of the handheld device. "_It was beyond human control after all. Everything… it was all over on that day… that day six years ago! It must be stopped! I… I must stop it! Oh, God! Please, forgive my foolishness! I… I…!"_

The voice cuts off, leaving an eerie silence in the helicopter and Naomi is left stunned and petrified, unable to think, unable to move, unable to absorb the words she had just heard. _The god's child... the Devil... _could that person be Rosalia?

The complete silence is soon broken by Naomi's phone receiving a call. Absentmindedly flipping it open, Naomi answers Little Guy's call.

"Ah, Dr. Kimishima," says Little Guy. "The results of the analysis are in."

"Good…" Naomi frowns, trying to call up requests from the distant past. "Which results are we talking about here?"

"Oh, right. The one on Albert's bloodstain." Little Guy answers, reading over the report. "Let's see… traces of saliva were detected in the components of the bloodstain."

"Saliva…" Naomi's brow furrows, thinking this through. "It means that the blood was from blood Albert had vomited." After all, that was the case for Veronica Cage... now come to think of it, both Sartre and Veronica's clothes had blood on the front, vomited on by their respective owners...

"Yes, that appears to be the case," says Little Guy slowly, coming to the same realization as Naomi. "Can you figure something out from that?"

"Well…" Naomi thinks back over her previous cases, the Sartre one. "Albert was infected with viral hemorrhagic fever. This disease causes severe attacks that trigger vomiting of blood."

"Severe attacks…" Little Guy slowly raises his head, thinking hard at his theory. "If that's the case, then he may have been like the other victims we've seen…"

"Yes, just like Veronica Cage and Alma Parker," Naomi sighs, admitting her theory that has haunted her since the vomited blood on his suit. "There's a possibility that the disease undermined his sanity and drove him mad."

"Whew… well, in any case, we're finally beginning to see the big picture behind what happened here," says Little Guy quickly, trying not to get into specifics.

"Hm… not yet," Naomi scolds. "The most important truth hasn't been uncovered."

"Do you mean the cause of the recent outbreak of this disease?" Naomi is right… they haven't found out the reason why the Rosalia virus is spreading, and now, of all times, is something critical that needs to be found out so something like this wouldn't duplicate in the future.

"Yes," says Naomi, nodding approvingly. "Albert died of viral hemorrhagic fever two years ago. Rosalia, the host of the virus, was killed even before that. So why would the virus begin spreading now? And how can we stop it?" _The most important question. How can we save the lives of the victims of this disease? Unfortunately… no cure has been found, and no antiserum can be created with Rosalia in this condition..._ "We don't have any answers for these important questions yet."

And Naomi isn't sure how to get these answers, with the whole world so vast and Rosalia's death so vague.

"Sheesh," Little Guy sighs. "Looks like it's all over, then. Well, I really don't have much to regret."

"No." Naomi says defiantly, shaking her head fiercely, which only brings on another round of headaches. _This is happening more and more frequent.._. "I can still do this. I'm not going to give up."

Naomi knows that she doesn't have much time left. In the last few moments of her life, she will do everything she can to call this pandemic to a stop. Why not? In just a few months or weeks, she would be at death, with the very victims she had performed autopsies on. It's all come down to this: either she dies trying to escape from the disease that has already settled inside her, or die trying to make a difference. The result is the same; the actions are the difference.

Little Guy sighs, so clueless and unknowing on Naomi's condition and her reasoning. Shaking his head, he says, "I thought you'd say that. I've repaired another voice file."

"Huh? You…" Naomi steps back in surprise, mind wandering from death abruptly.

Little Guy rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on. Did you really think I meant that?" He grins. "Even _I _have something to live for, you know."

"Hmm?" Naomi raises an eyebrow. Well, this is a first...

"Anyway, I've transferred the restored recording to you." Little Guy changes the subject abruptly, stepping back from the topic they were wandering on. "The filename is _record-03_. Give it a listen."

"All right," she agrees. "Do you know when this was recorded?"

"Yes…" he mumbles. "I've listened to it, and it seems to be from before Albert lost his mind." He sighs exasperatedly and tiredly. "The recorder doesn't have any more files for me to send you."

"All right. I'll try listening to it." Hanging up the phone, Naomi gathers her thoughts before turning on the machine and hearing what Sartre had to say in the last few moments of his sanity... perhaps he will finally reveal why... he had _ever _had the intention to kill his beloved daughter... hopefully, this will solve all the mysteries that are still wandering out there... "Rosalia was found dead in that field of blue flowers. I think I might be finally able to understand why now."

Naomi turns on the recorder, ready to listen to any other messages Albert Sartre left behind in his recorder.

"_The results of the experiments from the other day are in. It's a disaster. That virus… it's the most vicious and dangerous thing I've ever seen. No matter what attempts I make, nothing can stop their activities. They… multiply… and devour… and destroy everything! How can she still be alive while that… monster… lives within her?"_

_Her. _Naomi's heart clenches. _Her. _The only _her _Sartre could've referred to is Rosalia... a sharp gasp draws from Naomi's chest as she recalls the very words CR-S01 had uttered, shortly before their departure for Mexico: _"There is no cure... yet she was infected without falling ill. She's a natural host." _This disease... was the monster that inhabited Rosalia's body, and perhaps still thrives now, if Sartre's case proves to be true.

"_I feel that her blood holds the secret to that," _Albert Sartre continues hastily, his voice becoming more and more panicky._ "Her blood is the only key to saving all of humanity. I cannot give up. There's nothing more I can do to stall it. One day, this virus will be brought to heel, and I will return to that place… And…"_

The voice in the recorder gives a final sigh, and then cuts off, the recording having ended. Naomi still sits, recorder in hand, lost in thought. The tragic tale of Sartre and Rosalia has almost been brought to light... there's only a little bit left to do.

"Professor Sartre said that Rosalia's blood was the only key. This _key_ that Rosalia had that allowed her to live with the virus was a glycoprotein called immunoglobulin. In other words, it was an antibody. The Rosalia Virus is immensely powerful. The professor tried to extract the antibody in order to suppress and control its activity." Naomi swallows down her grief and mourning for the sad little girl and the extinguishing of Sartre's life. "That was a Pandora's box that should never have been opened. Rosalia's blood was too much of a danger to look into."

Pain suddenly strikes her heart again, pulsing with its rising beat, the disease growing restless as it tries to surface. Naomi takes a deep breath and ignores the throbbing pain, repeating to herself over and over again that the end is near – for both the case and herself – and for the world if she doesn't end both fast.

"Little Guy. I need your help," she says briefly, dialling the speed dial number. Naomi's cell phone is getting a lot of use today, as she is constantly sending in more data for Little Guy to analyze. It also means more homework for him, but hey, welcome to the world of assisting Naomi Kimishima.

"Whoa… that's rare, coming from you," Little Guy smirks, smugness creeping into his voice. "What can I do?"

Normally, Naomi would've snapped back, chomped off Little Guy's head and flushed it down the toilet or something, but today, in the middle of a huge emergency, she remains calm and cold, stating out very clearly, "I need to get to the bottom of these blue flowers."

"Huh? Didn't we analyze those already?" Little Guy is taken aback at Naomi's request.

"What we know now may throw a new light on what we've looked at before," she counters sharply.

"All right," Little Guy shrugs; it's best to humor and please her for the moment, before she really reaches through the screen and wrings his neck. "Let's sort through our information again, then."

"Yes," she says, relieved that Little Guy had agreed. "Rosalia was found collapsed in the middle of these blue flowers."

"That's right," he confirms. "We had a number of ideas about why that happened."

"We thought that the killer might have moved the body before hypostasis set in," Naomi says, continuing Little Guy's sentence. "Another possibility was that Rosalia ran to the blue flowers herself."

"Yes…" says Little Guy, nodding, but... why would Naomi go over something that has been burned and implanted _and _engraved into both their brains? "Does any of that change with the information we've gained?"

"Indeed," says Naomi, and the corners of Little Guy's eyes narrow in confusion. "One of those possibilities has already been ruled out."

"Huh? Which one?" Little Guy asks, head cocked, trying to catch up to Naomi in terms of thoughts.

"Don't you see?" Naomi rolls her eyes, sighing exasperatedly, and Little Guy could've sworn that she's enjoying this. But Naomi isn't, because Little Guy isn't at the verge of death... never knowing the threat of it... and she must get to the very bottom of the case before her light goes out. "It's that the killer moved the corpse. It's impossible for the body to have been moved after death. The reason for that is the bullet found in the ground beneath Rosalia proves she was killed right there."

"Hey, wait," Little Guy cuts in, preparing for the words he is about to give after only a moments' hesitation. "Let me try arguing against you for once."

"What's that?" asks Naomi, surprised. Little Guy trying to defeat her logic? He must be joking.

"Never mind…" Little Guy says quickly, backing down and chickening out at Naomi's tone of voice that suggests superiority above anyone else. However, after some thought and realizing that Naomi biting his head off won't be the least of his worries when the world's population decreases by the billions, Little Guy slowly says, "It's still possible she was killed elsewhere, right? She could have been killed somewhere else, then dragged here and shot in the chest to cover it up."

"Hmm... That's not possible." Naomi cuts, chops, shreds, and throws away Little Guy's theory so fast, he didn't even have a chance to protest before she goes onto her counterargument. "She was alive before she was shot in the chest. The proof of that is the defensive wound in her hand."

Little Guy slinks back in his seat, once again having been defeated by Naomi.

"Rosalia held up her hand to try to protect herself from the gunshot," Naomi continues, unaware of Little Guy's horrid defeat. "This pattern of wounds could only happen if the victim was conscious at the time."

"You're right." Little Guy sighs and tries to recover his calm and steadiness, which has barely appeared since the pandemic began. "The student fails to defeat the master…" he mutters, unable to keep it within his own mind, which earns him more drilling from Naomi.

"What do you keep muttering to yourself?" Naomi asks, smirking, all her troubles and woes forgotten for one split second, the one moment of harmony. Then it all comes back again when Little Guy averts her question and it all comes clashing back down, a merciless waterfall of unforgettable and untreatable depressing thoughts.

"Uh, nothing!" Little Guy calls, smiling an extremely fake grin that gives it away immediately. _Don't FBI agents ever get training in the art of lying? _"Um, anyway… if that's the case, then that means that Rosalia ran to the blue flowers of her own free will. Hmm… I wonder why." Little Guy's voice is very theatrical and fake, Naomi almost wants to laugh at it.

"I still don't have an answer for that… yet," says Naomi, reminding herself that this is serious. "It might be a good idea to examine those flowers in detail once more."

Naomi goes to do exactly that, heading back out to the Asclepias field to investigate the mysterious blue flowers. Looking out into the distance, the sky is still clear and bright blue, a cloudless day dawned over by the golden rays of the sun. Noon approaches fast; by this afternoon, the virus could've well spread to almost all of America. Within several days, the whole continent will be infected, and the US will surely be left dead. It will soon rampage to South America, take over the Western Hemisphere, and eventually travel to the Eastern Hemisphere... how can all of this evolve from such a happy family? A father and two children... one was betrayed by the father and left to rot in a prison, another was found dead and skeletonized... and another one died here, in one of the most beautiful places Naomi has ever seen...

Taking a deep breath, Naomi uses three precious seconds to draw in the fresh summer air, filled with the sweet smell of flowers radiating from the ground below. Soon, she will lose the soft breeze on her back, lose the flutter of hair that flies around her head, lose the beauty of nature and the sunsets... Naomi looks down at the Asclepias flowers, knowing that she will soon be forced to let go.

Treading through the patches of flowers with the distant blue blooms in sight, Naomi tries to take in as much of life as she can possibly get. This could very well be the last time she will be out in the outdoors, free from the burdens of everything that will chase her until the end... finally reaching the patch of mysterious blue flowers, Naomi swallows and bends down, disrupting the peace that has been casted over the flowers since the day Rosalia died.

She picks one, investigating it in her hands. "These blue flowers…" Naomi's tone is almost wistful, as if she wants to be with the flowers forever... as much as it would be lovely to, she _does _have a job to do... "I can't believe such a vibrant color exists in nature." Indeed, they are a vibrant blue, deeper and more vibrant than the pale blue sky overhead. "I should send a picture of this to Little Guy and have him study it. There could be a reason for why Rosalia had collapsed here."

Almost gliding across the carpet of flowers again, Naomi runs off for the helicopter. Her chest wobbles in pain, but... now isn't the time to care. This is the time to care about the millions of other people waiting for their savior to come and save them all.

"Little Guy. I've collected some samples of the flowers." Naomi climbs through the helicopter door, already talking to the always-on computer.

"Huh? Why?" Little Guy's reply is fast, as faint as Naomi's voice may be.

"I want to know why Rosalia collapsed there," says Naomi hurriedly, explaining, settling herself down in the makeshift office. "There's no guarantee that it will help us, but there's a chance we might learn something useful."

"Hmm… okay," Little Guy shrugs, and since they're at a dead end anyways, "It's worth a shot."

"Good. Thanks for the help." Naomi leans back in her chair, trying to piece together things in her mind, but failing...

After a few anxious minutes of Naomi tapping her finger against one side of a chair and softly murmuring the facts out, trying to smooth out the wrinkles of the case, she is just about to pester Little Guy to hurry up when his reply comes first.

"Huh? What the…!"

"What's the matter?" Naomi quickly asks, changing the words she was about to mutter.

"Oh, well, this flower's… Um, it's Asclepias." Little Guy's tone is awkward, as if he is a little kindergartener admitting that he stole the chocolate.

"What are you talking about?" Naomi demands, the very reaction Little Guy had feared. "The red flowers are the Asclepias. I want you to tell me about the blue flowers." Naomi's tone is like that to an inattentive child, who, unfortunately, happens to be Little Guy.

"That's what I'm saying!" Little Guy insists, which is one argument he is refusing to give up. "These are Asclepias."

"What're you saying?" Naomi is now confused by Little Guy's proclamations and statements, which is something that rarely happens. "Asclepias doesn't _have_ blue flowers."

"Y-Yes, there are no known breeds of blue Aslepias." A note of amazement enters his voice, causing his words to stammer, but Little Guy is still firm. "But, from the shape and structure, this is an Asclepias blossom." He pauses for a second, and it has the desired effect on Naomi. "This flower… shouldn't exist."

"What in the world is it, then?" Naomi asks, but receives no answer. Then, she continues. "Let's try sorting out the information we have. The blue flowers in the center of the field are Aslepias, just like the flowers surrounding them. Then why are the blue flowers only around Rosalia?" Naomi thinks for a minute, but can only come up with one reason. "Those flowers must have become discolored for some reason. A probable cause of that is Rosalia's blood. Rosalia was shot through the heart. Rosalia would have lost a large amount of blood from that wound. That blood then seeped into the ground around her. Hmm…" Naomi thinks back over Albert Sartre's words. "This miraculous blood, containing both the divine and the demonic. The flowers around her body absorbed Rosalia's blood from the soil. That, in turn, caused the flowers to take on this unnatural blue hue." Naomi sighs. "I don't want to believe it. But that's the conclusion that I have to arrive at."

Naomi puts her final two pieces of evidence together. "Yes…these allow us to finally figure everything out. It's no coincidence that Rosalia's body was surrounded by these blue flowers. They were normal red flowers until she died. When she died, her blood soaked into the ground. The Asclepias flowers absorbed her blood and changed color. Most likely, what caused the color change in the flowers was Rosalia's blood. The demon within Rosalia's veins lived on after her death, finding another viable host in the blue Asclepias flowers.

"I can't believe it." Little Guy's wonder-filled voice comes through Naomi's phone (her regular one, not voodoo hotline). "How could such a thing…?"

"It may be unbelievable, but it is the truth. The corpse itself is a testament to that."

"Huh? The corpse?" Little Guy frowns.

"Yes. Remember, Rosalia's corpse had turned completely into adipocere. Adipocere normally occurs when the bacteria that break down bodies do not multiply for some reason. This normally occurs when the corpse is stored in anaerobic conditions for long periods of time. But, this is hardly an anaerobic location. The reason her body became adipocere was not due to environmental or weather conditions. It was because the virus within her continued to protect her body.

Little Guy gasps in surprise. Collecting himself, he says, "But even if the blue Asclepias are harboring the Rosalia virus, how does that connect to the pandemic going on right now in America? It's impossible!"

"You're right. The Rosalia virus is only passed on via contact with the mucous membranes. Even if this entire field was filled with flowers holding the Rosalia virus, it wouldn't be able to cause the outbreak in Portland, over 3000 kilometers away."

"Then…how?"

"There was a vector." Naomi says, eyes narrowing.

"A vector?"

"Yes. Some method of transmission that carried the virus from these flowers. This is how the virus spread to cause the infections in cities hundreds of miles away from here."

"Huh? What?" Little Guy still can't see where Naomi is going with this.

"Can't you tell? It's the Monarch Butterflies." Naomi says, pausing to let that piece of information sink in.

"Wha-?" Little Guy is now well and truly astounded.

"That's right. The butterflies that led us here carried the virus. The Monarchs are the vector for the Rosalia virus. This is how the Rosalia Virus has spread!"

Naomi hangs up the phone. She now has enough evidence to solve the case, but somehow, she still feels as if something is missing. Some piece of information that will bring this case together to its conclusion.

Her phone gives its familiar beeping ringtone. "Dr. Kimishima, can I bother you for a moment?"

Naomi stares out at the beautiful landscape surrounding Rosalia's deathbed. "Yes? What is it?"

"You might not need this anymore, but I reconstructed another voice file."

"Another one? I thought you'd said you'd repaired them all."

"Yes. This file was actually marked as having been deleted. It still existed in the memory, though, so I was able to reconstruct it."

"I see. When is that recording from?"

"From looking at the date, it's right before Albert lost his sanity."

"All right." Naomi arches an eyebrow. "Still, it's unusual for you to go and do something unnecessary like this."

"Yeah, well, not sure how to put this…" Little Guy seems sheepish. "I felt this was…something that I needed to pass on to you."

"Okay," says Naomi softly, figuring that something Little Guy would go through all these measures must be something important indeed. "I'll try listening to it."

"Please do. It'll be file_ record-04_."

Immediately, Naomi picks up the recorder and flips through to record-04. _What is this recording about? Right before Albert lost his sanity... what last words could he have had?_

Immediately, it's recognizable whose voice this is, though, a voice too fresh to be Sartre's old croak, but familiar all the same. A young girl's tones come through the speakers, and Naomi's heart skips a beat as she hears the voice.

_I'm… Rosalia._

The voice seems hesitant at first, then picks up speed, as if growing more confident to saying what she wants to record.

_I live here with my daddy. My daddy… is really nice and says a lot of nice things. _

Rosalia smiles as she says these words. Naomi can sense the love shared between father and daughter.

_Daddy's a great doctor. He says he's going to save everyone from diseases. He says I've got a poison and a cure in my body, and that the poison's really scary, but the cure is really amazing!_

Naomi sighs. Did Rosalia have any idea of the devastation the virus within her would cause?

_That's why he's researching how to get that medicine out of me! If that medicine is made…I wonder if it'll heal everyone… And then I can make lots of friends and play with them…_

Rosalia's voice trails off, as if lost in a daydream. Then, it returns, with a slight melancholy tone in the sweet sound.

_Daddy's… really bothered right now because the research is difficult._

Was Albert beginning to lose his sanity, even then? Naomi has so many questions, and so few answers.

The voice changes to a sad tone, as if remembering something lost.

_But… I think I'll be okay if I can stay here like this! I can't see my brother… or my big sis…_

Naomi's eyes begin to get tears in them, and she hastily wipes them away. _Rosalia's brother… if only CR-S01 were here now to hear this. _But of course, he won't be. He stayed at Resurgam for his reason: to fight for humanity, to save as many lives as he can... but could he be fighting for Rosalia too?

_But Daddy's always here for me. He's always laughing... it's really funny. I think Daddy will be happy if he can get the medicine out of me! The exams hurt, but if Daddy's happy, I'll be okay! _

Naomi now sees the family that shared this home, before it was torn apart by the virus. CR-S01, Albert Sartre, and Rosalia. All loved each other and would do anything to help the other.

_So I hope that Daddy's research comes true soon. And then everyone can be healed!_

The voice in the recorder fades away, replaced by the soft sound of the wind sighing through the Asclepias flowers.

Naomi gives a sad sigh. "A father who wanted to end all disease, and a daughter who wanted nothing but his success. This is far too sad a conclusion to their stories. And yet, now I can see the truth behind everything that happened here."

Naomi stands in the center of the blue Asclepias flowers, Rosalia's deathbed. Unseen, a small figure stands in front of her. Rosalia Rossellini has been waiting for her story to get out, for all wrongs that she may have inadvertently caused to be put to right. Yet, Naomi can feel _something_ there. And, slowly, the figure of the girl appears in her vision. The long, white hair braided down her shoulders. The cream-dress, without any traces of the bloodstains on the objects Naomi examined. The pale pink eyes, staring back at Naomi's own, sadness and hope reflected in them.

"This…" Naomi gasps. Then, she closes her eyes, steadying herself for the task at hand. "I see. I understand now." She takes a deep breath. "Let's put together the truth of what happened here."

_We came here to find an antiserum in Rosalia's blood. But what we found was that Rosalia had already been killed. I know now what killed her._

Naomi remembers how it was when the group had arrived at the field in the helicopter. Rosalia, peaceful, undisturbed in her final sleep, in the center of the blue deathbed, flowers swaying gently in the breeze.

_The one who murdered Rosalia, the girl acting as host to the virus, was Albert Sartre. The bullet's rifling matches that of Albert's gun. There's no doubt Albert Sartre was her killer. Three shots were fired. This is how it began…_

Naomi closes her eyes. In her head, she can picture the photo of Albert Sartre from CIFM's database. The long, blue-ish hair, the hard features, and the cold, unforgiving eyes.

_Three shots were fired at this location. The first one was at the desk inside the room. Albert pulled the gun from his desk and fired. He was aiming at his loving daughter, who stood at the door. _

Naomi's vision swims over, and she is _at_ the scene. Albert aims the gun at the door, lab coat billowing in the breeze. His dark, cluttered office is scattered around him. Sunlight does not reach the darkest corners of the room.

_However, he missed and the bullet went through the glass. Whether this is due to hesitation or his condition is unknown._

The door swings open on its hinges. A starburst pattern from the gunshot has been rent into the glass, with a shattered pile of shards below. Outside, the red, yellow, and orange Asclepias flowers lend an unaccountable beauty to the scene.

_Rosalia fled the room, trying to escape. The blood on the glass shard is from her stepping on it. She ran in desperation, but this prevented her escape. _

In her mind, Naomi fixates on the pile of razor-sharp glass shards. They lay scattered from where the bullet shattered them. One of them has a red stain on it from Rosalia's miraculous blood.

_Rosalia ran into the flower field, but she was unable to escape her assailant. Albert stood in the doorway and shot her. The bullet pierced Rosalia's leg and she collapsed. _

Now Rosalia is falling onto the bed of Asclepias flowers, pain, confusion, and fear written all over her face. She cannot believe that her beloved father has done this to her. A thin stream of blood trails from her leg. Her hair flies out behind her as she falls, ever so slowly, to her deathbed.

_Albert caught up with the frightened girl as she lay there._

She lies collapsed on the pillow of flowers, staring up with wide, frightened eyes at the bright blue sky, the last piece of beauty she will ever see, as she waits for death to come to her, unknowing, lost, unable to process of this sudden betrayal.

_And then…_

A shot rings through the air, shattering all other images. The echo continues to ring in Naomi's mind as she sees the next part of the puzzle come together.

_Yes… he ended her life. But Albert didn't kill Rosalia because he wanted to. He truly loved Rosalia as he would his own daughter. But he had no choice but to kill her. _

Now Albert Sartre kneels in front of the body of his dead daughter. Head bent, shoulders slumped, face grief-stricken. Rosalia lays there, sightless eyes staring up at the sky, head surround by a soft pillow of Asclepias flowers. Her body is peaceful, as if she is only sleeping. It will remain undisturbed for years to come.

_Albert had been infected with the Rosalia Virus. However,, this virus does more than infect the body. It eats away at the heart and soul, as in my other cases. _

Albert Sartre, face clenched in agony, hands gripping at thin air, vomits blood into his palm. Just as so many of the victims of the virus before him, his rational mind has gone, leaving him with no heart, able to kill his own daughter.

_Because Albert knew of the virus's threat all too well, in order to exterminate it, he killed his own child. And yet, ironically, he may have caused the exact opposite. The blood spilling from the gunshot wound in her chest provided the Rosalia Virus with a new host. This is the true cause of the spreading infection. _

Naomi looks down at Albert's gun, sitting discarded on the table in a pile of papers and books. The black metal of the barrel holds so many secrets… and one very important life.

_The blue Asclepias flowers around her body drew in Rosalia's blood and became a new host for Death. And so, the mass infection began. A certain organism served as a vector for the virus…_

Naomi is back, looking down at Rosalia's peaceful body, flowers grown up around her face. As she watches, the flowers, over the season, slowly turn blue, as they absorb the virus and are discolored by the pathogen.

_Monarch larvae store toxins of the plants that they ingest. The Monarchs carrying the Rosalia Virus migrated north, and as they went, they showered death in golden scales. This is the truth behind how the virus spread._

Now, Naomi sees the Monarch butterflies that led the team to this field, as they pollinate the Asclepias and ingest the poisonous virus. All seems so peaceful in the field, the innocent girl's body keeping watch over the butterflies as they carry death away in their golden wings.

_Rosalia never…Neither did Albert. No one intended for it to end this way. One sought an end to all disease, and the other his success. But that…was the beginning. The evil sealed in Rosalia gained wings and flew. That's what Rosalia's last word meant._

Naomi looks down at Albert's desk one last time. There, sitting on the flat surface, is a picture. Rosalia, her hair hanging loose about her face, laughs at the camera, eyes closed with joy. Albert Sartre also smiles, pure joy radiating from his face. Behind them, the Asclepias field flowers, looking the same as it does now, with the family's entire life turned upside-down. And so the wheel of fate will eternally turn, carrying with it sadness, hope, joy, and despair.

_Beginning…_

Rosalia Rossellini's face stares back at Naomi's, as her ghostly face mouths the whispered word. _Beginning... _a word with so many meanings pertaining to this sad story.

"This is the whole truth, illuminated by the light of life." Naomi concludes, finally having told this family's full story. "You must've suffered, too…" Naomi says to the girl whose fate brought so many lives down with her, though inadvertently. "Let's end this."

The ghostly eyes of Rosalia Rossellini close for the final time, and her pale features slowly fade away, leaving behind the field of beautiful Asclepias flowers of every shade of yellow and orange and red... but also the deadly carpet of blue death.

Naomi stares at the faded illusion now blanketed by the dead girl, asleep forever. _Asleep. _Secretly, Naomi has never liked to call the dead as gone from the world, but merely sleeping... in peace. She sighs, knowing that in just a few mere months – or even weeks, even days – she will be with Rosalia, with Sartre, and with all the dead people in the world.

She doesn't have much time left.

"Naomi, come quick! We got the equipment working!"

Maria's cries are urgent and they sharply cut through the air, but it takes a few seconds for the skilled forensics examiner to come to her senses and process it. Naomi turns from Rosalia's body, making up for lost time.

"All right," she calls back. "I'll be right..."

Her voice cuts off as a sudden spasm strikes her body, forcing her to the ground. Naomi's pale eyes vanish from the world as her eyelids slam down, squeezing hard, wincing in the pain that has suddenly attacked her heart. "Urgh..."

Bent down on her knees in the Asclepias field, Naomi clasps one hand to her heart, struggling to breathe, struggling to stay alive. _Of all times... why now? This... can't be... we must... return to America... _Her eyes snap open and she takes in the view around her: the flowers, still blooming, the butterflies, still dancing. To die tragically in such a beautiful place is exactly what had happened to Rosalia...

Another sudden spasm causes her to cough loudly, and Naomi feels something wet at the back of her throat. _No... _she takes the other hand and covers her motuh with it, unwilling to let Maria or Holden to see it.

Will Naomi's blood also pour into the soil and turn the flowers blue, and have a new disease spread across America? A twisted one, far beyond the reaches of the Rosalia Virus, a mutation? A horrible mutation? Naomi's heart ebbs in pain, doubled over with fears that have clawed her for months, since the day she had found out from Derek Stiles. The lines of her face are hardened, refusing to give up, refusing to give up...

Maria, who had turned in shock at the sound of Naomi's horrible, wracking coughs, now runs over, paramedic instincts kicking in. "Hey, Naomi? What's wrong...?" She kneels by Naomi's side, grasping her shoulders, keeping her steady. She looks so weak, she might fall over.

"It's nothing," Naomi chokes out. "Let's go."

Maria refuses to let go, and her face turns into a completely new one: distorted and insane, fierce and stubborn. "It's not nothing! Let me take a..."

She bends closer to Naomi, her voice cutting off, and her heart hammering as she sees what had just happened. The corners of Naomi's mouth are scarlet, brimming with fresh blood she had spilled moments before, and her palm... is covered with the crimson blood.

_Coughing up blood... _Maria is far too familiar with this symptom, for she has treated many of them, _those _patients, the not-so-uncommon ones who are spreading every day throughout America. The victims... of the Rosalia Virus.

"You!" Maria cries. She turns, about to call for Holden, but Naomi stops her.

"As I said before, we don't have much time," she says briskly, wiping her hand off. She forces herself to get up, although the pains are wracking her body now, merciless, unforgiving against the breeze. "We still have a job to do, and we must accomplish it!"

Naomi walks up, refusing to let go of the world's slim thread of hope. Maria follows her, yelling loudly. "H-Hey, wait! Hey...!"

But no matter what Maria does, deep down, she knows that she will have to let Naomi go just this time. The fate of the world depends on it – even if it means sacrificing the newest member of the trauma team. Maria had come to dislike the forensics examiner, especially after the episode in which they had just found Rosalia, but now... she is starting to see her with a new respect. She trudges after Naomi grudgingly, trailing several meters behind her.

This isn't just the fight for this world. Maria had been Rosalia's friend... no, more than a friend. Ever since the fire, Maria had felt some attachment to her, and especially now... Maria isn't thinking about the world right now; this is a fight for Rosalia, to fulfill what she cannot do.

_I wonder if she's watching us now..._

* * *

"How's it coming, Agent?" Naomi's sharp voice cuts through the drone of the machines as they warm up after several years of rusting over and gathering dust. "Did you find anything?"

"We've got the power back on, as you can see," Holden shrugs, gesturing at the machines around him. "The rest's a pile of records, chemicals, and equipment... you?"

"It's all been solved," says Naomi, praying that her disease wouldn't attack now. "Albert Sartre killed Rosalia."

"How sad," says Holden, though his voice is merciless and cold, patches of it frosted over with ice. He doesn't seem to care at all, and the news doesn't seem to disturb him. But to Maria, it might break her down... "His effort to save the world is close to killing it."

"Yes," says Naomi, keeping her voice at a level tone, trying not to work her bloodied throat. "He must have realized the virus couldn't be used. That... is what caused this tragedy to strike."

"So...?" Holden turns his back to Naomi, examining a machine behind him. "Did you find a countermeasure to the virus?"

"Yes," says Naomi, closing her eyes, feeling the pain wobble in her chest. "The virus's vector is the Monarchs. The scales they lose during migration are spreading it."

Now Holden's voice shows alarm. "Don't tell me... the quarantine failed because..." He shuts his eyes, remembering the butterflies flying past him as he shut down Portland for quarantine... how can something that small and that beautiful be so dangerous?

"The Monarch migration pattern extends from Mexico to Lake Erie," says Naomi softly. "Even if the virus isn't airborne, it will still spread."

"Dammit," Holden swears. "What should we do, then?" His voice has finally risen to a panicked rate, for even he has lost hope...

As if on cue, Maria runs into the doorway, having done the deed Naomi had briefed her on earlier. "Naomi! I gathered as much as I could!"

"Flowers?" Holden asks incredulously, staring at the blue bunches in Maria's hand. Indeed, blue Asclepias flowers are gathered in bunches, clutched in Maria's arms. "What are you planning on doing?" _This is just absurd..._

"I'll use antibody stabilizers to extract an antiserum," says Naomi briskly.

"You can do that?" Holden reels back in shock, and Naomi is reminded of the conversation she had with Little Guy about the recorder and her inability to use computers...

"Yes," she sighs, deciding not to pull a Little Guy. "Thankfully, this facility has the necessary equipment. I'll make the serum contain tripeptides in N-terminal order."

"A-All right...!" Holden agrees, not getting a word of what Naomi had just said, and even Maria stands in confusion. "Just tell me what to do to help you!"

"Of course," says Naomi. "Let's get this over with as fast as we can."

The three look at each other in the eye, and nod in unison. This is it. The final step before eliminating the virus for good – either they succeed and become the heros of the world, or fail and take the earth with them.

* * *

Fuuuun. Word count: 18152. I never knew fanfi- ahem, I mean, _this site _could support chapters that long. (What? I'm joking. Geez.)

This was written by Aya, as always, because SOMEBODY (*cough* me) procrastinated too much and realized I had one freaking week to finish Friends, Carpet of Blue Death, Despair, Time For Rejoicing, Twisted Rosalia, and The Seventh Doctor, so... *hugs Aya* She wrote Carpet of Blue Death's autopsy, all of Despair, Time For Rejoicing's op and Twisted Rosalia's op. Frankly, I got sick of the operations. :)

By the way, in this chapter, if you see any typos or whatever towards the end, feel free to blame fighterkirby. I got sorta lazy to edit it towards the end... and... let's just say that if you had to edit a 46-paged chapter, you would give up halfway too. :P

~fk


	54. PZ: X: Despair

**CHAPTER TEN  
**_Despair_

Tomoe Tachibana

The victims of the Rosalia Virus cover the lawns of Resurgam First Care, leaving hardly any space for new patients. A cloud of activity surrounds the scene, bringing with it the sounds of people in agony.

Patients of all races, all ages, and all sizes litter the once well-kept rich green grass, now covered with crimson traces of vomited blood. Paramedics run from one patient to another, carrying heaps of tools: a variety of syringes, defibrillators and gauze. More and more patients have black triage tags, all lost to this futile race of life and death.

"We don't have enough spare interferon!" Nurse Emma Wilson cries to one of the other OR nurses. Patients are being carried in for emergency surgery every second, but dozens more are coming in by the minute. Time isn't something one can fight against; you can only attempt to beat it, but you will fail at some point. This is already hard enough to keep up with the amount of patients coming in.

"The hemorrhaging won't stop! I need more gauze!" Hank Freebird yells, kneeling over a bleeding patient, blood already pooling around his area on the grass. His hands work desperately hard to save the man and the other patients assigned to him, but even a hero has his limits. _A hero acting on his own only acts in vain, _he had once told Maria. But... there are others with him, so why isn't this going the right way?

"Hurry up with the AED! We need to keep this patient alive!" Gabriel Cunningham shouts, trying to stabilize his patient's heart using Maria's way, but failing. Gabe is aging, not as young as Maria and certainly not her strength and will to keep others alive.

"All right! Please transfer one patient out!" Tomoe Tachibana looks worriedly around the scene. _How will we survive this? When will the others return?_ Her eyes flutter closed for one brief second and she takes a deep breath of the summer air tainted with the metallic smell of blood before returning the the half-dozen patients left in her care. _I must follow the path of honor... I must follow the path of honor..._

A rush of footsteps echo in her ears, and Darnell appears behind the young endoscopic surgeon. "Dr. Tachibana! We're ready to begin the operation!"

"Understood. I'll immediately…" Tomoe stands up quickly, and a wave of dizziness and nausea coats her mind. Having spent hours crouching by patients and watching them slip away, she tries to run after Darnell, but her shoes decide to disobey her commands and they slip together. Tripping over her own feet, the ninja girl falls toward the ground.

Suddenly, a hand grabs her, steady and strong, gripped firmly around her forearm. Tomoe steadies herself and stand up, wide, astonished eyes staring into the face of CR-S01, looking worriedly at her, but his scarlet eyes are intense all the same. His raven black locks are swept apart in the wind, eyes glazing from behind the veil of dark hair.

"I'm sorry! I...!" Tomoe stammers, quickly rising up straight. Shielded from the wind by the criminal doctor, she almost feels a sensation of peace, before swallowing down her stupid thoughts and remembering all the injured people out there.

"Just a little while longer," CR-S01 replies, knowing what is bothering her, but not knowing how to solve it. His eyes slide to the corners and he watches not the scattered patients across the field, but the horizon beyond it, waiting for his comrades to come back. Almost eight years in prison has taught him to be patient and optimistic, and that a savior will come one day.

"Huh?" Tomoe whispers, her face transforming into a completely different expression: one that makes her look several years younger than normal, one that seems softer than she actually is.

"They'll be back any minute now," he says fiercely, saying this for everyone, his words swept away by the wind, but not before Tomoe hears it. His head tilts towards the sky, and he adds perseveringly, "I'm sure of it!"

"Yes," Tomoe smiles, her old form coming back, and she takes a step towards the wide open doors of Resurgam First Care, towards the patients waiting for their turn to be operated on – but whether they live through it or not is something unknown, something to be found out in the future.

"Now, let's do this!" the doctor responds, and with determination in his voice, he follows Tomoe into the hospital.

Into the nightmare.

* * *

Inside the OR, CR-S01 stares at the charts in disbelief, shock rippling across his young face. "What? The infection is concentrated in both lungs?"

"It's impossible to tell for certain! We'll have to look!" Tomoe responds quickly, preparing her endoscope as CR-S01 continues to gawk at the charts.

"Yeah… but will we make it?" He asks the question on both of their minds, the question on everybody's mind, the question is still ebbing faintly in the unconscious patients' mind. _Will we survive this war, or will we die mercilessly at the hands of fate and allow the disease to sweep through the rest of Earth and take whoever is left, throwing all our efforts into futileness?_

"To win ninety-nine battles but to lose the one hundredth is not the way of honor!" Tomoe growls harshly, looking up from her set up endoscope. Closing her eyes gently, she whispers under her breath, a lasting prayer and a final message before the battle begins: "Father, I will prove to you the strength of my resolve." Then, her eyes snapping open, she calls, "Beginning the endoscopic surgery… Tachibana style!"

Tomoe inserts her endoscope, taking shallow breaths, forcing herself to calm down as she mutters, "Beginning the operation! Let's save her, no matter what!"

"Thankfully, we'll be able to treat at the bronchiole level using your endoscope." CR-S01 says, looking at the readout displayed clearly the screen. "Move through both lungs and find the areas that have been pathologically changed." His voice takes a more serious turn, fiercer and harsher than before. "Now, listen carefully. The colonies within the organ walls are not fully active yet. Spraying an antiviral drug on the colony before treating it will keep it from bursting. We must finish excising the focus while the antiviral drug is still in effect."

"Understood! We'll need to treat them the moment we find them!" Tomoe repeats like an obedient RONI, already beginning to move the endoscope through the maze of passages in the human body, specifically the lung.

_The human body is truly amazing, _Tomoe thinks as she navigates the endoscope through the easier parts of the lung. _To be able to generate such a complicated system for all these things... but yet so vulnerable._

Almost immediately, they run into a colony, proving Tomoe's thoughts about vulnerability to be rather true.

"Virus colony found! Begin working on the extraction!" CR-S01 directs, mirroring Tomoe's mind.

Tomoe sprays the antiviral drug on the focus with nimble fingers at the controls. "The colony has become dormant! I'm going to begin extraction!"

"All right," says CR-S01, satisfied. "Inject the medicine to begin protuberation."

Tomoe does just that, using the long tube of her endoscope to inject the drug. "Now ready to begin the excision! Using the scalpel to begin detachment."

She slowly and carefully slices the top off the virus colony, which has turned green, almost like a ripe watermelon. "I must finish the detachment while the antiviral drug remains in effect," she murmurs to herself, keeping herself focused on the task at hand. Finally, her scalpel finishes its job. "Detachment complete. Retrieving the virus colony." Using the forceps of her endoscope, the arm snakes out and grabs the colony, retrieving it from the lung. "The colony has been retrieved! I'll begin searching for the next focus."

With CR-S01 by her side in the motionless fight, she moves on through the lung, but then quickly stops, eyes widening in shock. "What the…?"

The virus seems to be creating a series of affected areas, a scarlet path right to its secret lair. A bright red blood pool sticks to the lung, caused by the virus colonies. Tomoe uses her drain to extract it, then looks for the blood pool's source.

Weaving her way through the body with expertise, Tomoe finds an affected area: an ulcer. "Beginning treatment!" Tomoe quickly injects the antiviral drug, and the ulcer is treated, almost seeming to disappear into the unknowns it had come from. "Continuing with the procedure!"

Many blood pools and several ulcers later, Tomoe finally locates the cause of the disease, but by this time, her palms are sweaty, and her brain is foggy. Shaking her head slightly to clear it up, she takes deep breaths before going to treat the actual colony itself.

"It's the virus colony! Use the antiviral drug." CR-S01 directs. Tomoe does so quickly. "It needs to be detached now! Inject it with medicine to cause it to protuberate." Tomoe follows the orders, and the virus colony seems to swell up like a balloon, protuberating into the passageway. She then uses the scalpel to treat it as she did the first colony, repeating the steps in the same way as before, extracting the evil from the body forever.

Tomoe still searches desperately through the lung, using her hemostatic forceps to treat hemorrhaging, and the antiviral drug to treat affected areas. Soon, another colony is found.

"Begin working on the extraction!" Tomoe knows exactly what to do now, but tiredness has swept over her like a plague. _Must... keep going..._

"The more antiviral drug you spray, the longer it will remain in effect," CR-S01 advises, by her side until the final minute, whenever that will come, probably soon. "Look at the condition of the affected area and judge how much you'll need." As he says it, he alternates from glancing at the screen to shadows of other surgeons, wondering how they are doing.

First the antiviral spray, then the scalpel, then the forceps, and the virus colony is gone for good. "I will save her. I'm going to save her!" Tomoe tells herself, heaving a sigh of mixed agitation and relief. Then, louder, "The right lung has been treated! Moving on to the left lung."

Tomoe navigates her way back through the maze of passages, working her way over to the left lung.

"Ngh! Affected areas here, too!" CR-S01 groans, but stays with her. "Begin treating them immediately."

Tomoe follows the same procedure as before, and the bleeding soon stops, treated by the endoscope.

"The hemorrhaging's been stopped! Move on to the next treatment!" Tomoe calls.

As she finds her way through the left lung, she continually has to stop again and again to treat affected area after affected area. Blood pools, ulcers, all leading up to the thing they were looking for, and now…

"It's the virus colony! Use the antiviral drug!" Tomoe sprays the colony with the drug.

"It needs to be detached now! Inject it with medicine to cause it to protuberate!" CR-S01 tells her, but Tomoe is already ahead of him.

She quickly disposes of the virus colony. "No affected areas remain!" _Here, at least, _both doctors think grimly. "Moving on to the next area!"

Tomoe moves through the passages, and, many blood pools, several ulcers, and a few virus colonies later, feels that she is finally getting closer to the end of the operation, but guts alone won't save lives. "The colony extraction is going well. Hopefully, it'll continue to be this way."

"Right! Let's keep looking for any remaining colonies." CR-S01 replies evenly.

Tomoe backs the endoscope through the tunnels, and into one she hasn't been in yet, looking at the radar and the screen for affected areas. It's impossible to miss the next object that pops up, one so foreign and out of place, one no doctor has seen or treated yet...

"What? This…" Tomoe gasps, eyes glazing at the screen.

A ring of five virus colonies, each one black and red, protuberates into the lung. One single colony on its own is something everyone has gotten used to, but _five _is unheard of. How can something like this even _exist? _Tomoe and CR-S01 stare at the colony for a few solid seconds, unable to determine what to do with it.

"We'd gotten careless." CR-S01 growls, trying not to waste time. "I didn't even think such a blight could exist."

"Doctor, we should change this operation to a surgical procedure!" Tomoe cries. "If we can extract it whole, along with the surrounding tissue…"

"No!" CR-S01 interrupts, shaking his head to emphasize his point. "The endoscope is the best tool for precise treatment while avoiding stimulating the focus! A surgical procedure may cause it and the other colonies to all burst together!"

Tomoe sighs, gearing up for the intense operation ahead. "It may be hopeless, but we have no choice! Let's begin by spraying the antiviral drug."

Tomoe sprays the deactivator all around the virus colonies, then begins to inject an equal amount of antiviral spray into each. But as she injects the drug, the other colonies begin to protuberate, as well.

"Is the injection affecting the colonies nearby!" she asks, worried.

"It seems that they're connected within the wall of the organ." CR-S01 says. "If we don't take care with how much we inject, we could cause multiple bursts!"

Tomoe slowly and carefully injects the drug into the virus colony. The colony turns green, like the previous ones, but then, along with the other colonies, begins to change color… from green to red to black, and back to green again.

"What the? The colony's changing color?" CR-S01 exclaims. "Keep going, but be careful."

Tomoe carefully injects the drug, draining and injecting to balance out between the five colonies.

"It'll take a large dose of the medicine to make the entire colony rise up." CR-S01 instructs. "But the medicine affects the area around it as well. We'll have to estimate how much medicine to inject at any given time."

Tomoe gives the colony one last squeeze of drug. But then…

"This isn't good… the colony burst!" CR-S01 says urgently. The black liquid from inside the virus colony has spread throughout the inside of the tunnel. "Treat the affected areas that have formed, quickly!"

Tomoe quickly drains the blood and removes the ulcers, all the while cursing herself for her stupidity. "We've dealt with the first wave. Continuing the treatment!"

There seems to be no end to the wave of ulcers and blood spills, but Tomoe deals with them all, wielding her endoscope like the expert that she is. Soon, all the damage has been dealt with. "The new affected areas have been treated! I'll continue treating the large colony!"

Tomoe resprays the antiviral spray, then begins the puzzle of injecting the exact amount of drug into the colonies. Going more carefully this time, she slowly expands all of them until they protrude from the tunnel just enough to extract them. Then, she notices something.

"It seems that the medicine isn't wearing off when applied to this colony…"

But she has no time to find the answer to that question. Vitals are steadily dropping, and within minutes, she has finished the balancing act for the colonies.

"All right, the medicine's evenly distributed. Let's begin the excision!" CR-S01 says.

Tomoe carefully cuts around the virus colony, trying to avoid the tissue beneath. Finally, she succeeds with one. "It's been detached! I can't believe how large it is…" She continues her work, finally saying "I'm going to begin detaching the large colony! We have to be aware of the antiviral drug's effect." She continues cutting with her scalpel. "We're halfway through…we can't afford to make any mistakes." She tells herself, concentrating on the task at hand.

Thankfully, nothing else goes wrong when detaching the colony, and Tomoe soon says, "Excision complete! Retrieving the detached focus…"

She uses her forceps to individually snatch away each of the five foci, efficiently removing them from the tissue.

"Treatment complete!" CR-S01 says. "Did we do it?"

But he spoke too soon. Immediately, the walls of the lung begin to shake, almost dislodging the endoscope. "This…!" Tomoe cries. "Wait, something's coming!"

Then, she gasps. Her purple eyes open wide, taking in the awful scene before her. The entire tunnel seems to explode with the black liquid from the colonies. The walls are coated with it, and it leaves all sorts of cuts and ulcers in its wake.

"It's a chain reaction! Colonies are exploding everywhere!" CR-S01 calls.

"No!" Tomoe responds. "We can still do this! Prepare the antiviral drug!"

"Damn… this isn't good!" CR-S01 swears, trying to think of best case and worst case scenarios... neither are very good. "If this keeps up…"

"No, we can still do this!" Tomoe insists, eyes glazing wide at the screen, refusing to give up. _I am a daughter of Tachibana... it's better to die fighting on my feet than to die powerless on my knees!_ "I'm not giving up!"

"Yeah… you're absolutely right. We must save her!" The doctor concedes.

Tomoe and CR-S01 stand side by side, anxiously watching the endoscope's progress. The handmade machine whirrs as it treats the colonies and ulcers.

"Ngh… please switch out the snare! Watch out for hemorrhaging!" Tomoe commands, hands briskly controlling the endoscope, tiring fast as the affected areas just come in by the dozens.

"Administer interferon! Watch the vitals!" CR-S01 directs, watching the endoscope's screen.

Tomoe stares down at the scene before her. A feeling of despair washes over her. _How can we stop this?_

"Please… Maria, Miss Kimishima. Please come back…" she whispers a silent prayer, unable to think of a future at a patient's side every minute...

Unheard by any, a phone inside the hospital begins to beep. A loud, insisting tone, it continues to ring until the answering machine picks up. A red light blinks urgently on the receiver. A voice comes through the speakers: "This is Maria Torres! Come in, over!"

Then comes silence, the eerie muted sound that was once a slender thread of hope but now discarded away.

* * *

I'M SORRY! I can't help it... Ayanna gave me a total of 109 words for the CR/Tomoe scene (YES WHOLE THING WRITTEN BY AYA, I JUST EDITED) and I just... um... booted it up a little bit. :) SORRY! You guys all know I worship Little Guy/Naomi, right? Well, I worship CR/Tomoe and CR/Maria as my crack pairings. (hey, count yourself thankful it's not something ridiculous like Esha/Sartre).

YAY WE REACHED THE DOUBLE DIGITS FOR PATIENT ZERO!

Word count: 3123. Fun.

~fk


	55. PZ: XI: Time For Rejoicing

**CHAPTER ELEVEN  
**_Time For Rejoicing_

Tomoe Tachibana

"If patients start convulsing, turn their heads aside! Make sure they don't choke on anything, like their own vomit! Check on them from time to time to update triage tags!"

In the midst of the coughing patients, ridden with the Rosalia Virus, Esha Patel stand by the brick Resurgam First Care wall and shouts out orders to the paramedics, directing the traffic flow between the hospital and the first response grounds. In the distance, she can see more and more army helicopters and trucks pulling in, pulling out more patients... green-and-yellow-dressed paramedics run everywhere, struggling to keep those who are still alive stable, and transporting more patients by the second. Still, it's not enough, and as Esha watches the black triage tag numbers increase, hope begins to fall, because when a black tag has been put on, it's all over.

"_This is Leukocyte, dropping in ten..."_

Esha shakes the ridiculous sound out of her head, telling herself that this is no video game, and there should be no weird announcers saying stuff...

"_Nine, eight, seven..."_

Surprise overcomes her face as Esha sees paramedics looking up, from where the voice is coming from. Gasping, she recognizes the sound... it's Holden's voice, coming from the sky...

Raising her head, she whispers, "That's..."

"_Three... two... one..." _The countdown hadn't ceased as Esha was thrown into confusion, and now, she watches something fall out of a helicopter and down to the ground... a giant metal crate of some sort... with a parachute...

Screaming, she runs, because she is standing right under the spot where the box is aimed to drop... as she runs, she can't help but sneak a look behind her, and the last thing she had ever expected to see is that Maria Torres is standing on top of the box, clutching the parachute's strings tight.

Esha dives to the ground, rolling for cover as the box falls onto the grass with a _thud, _though thankfully, not on top of patients. But it had almost crushed Esha, and now she stares at the paramedic, eyes wide, mouth wide. "M-Maria...? You're...?"

Maria Torres jumps from the top of the crate, heedless of the paramedics now staring at her. "Chief! We've brought the serum! Start distributing it!"

Maria leaves the chief alone on the field, and she runs off for the hospital, a vial of something clutched in her hand. Her short brown hair is swept apart by the wind, yet it doesn't obscure her vision at all, though lost hours of sleep is causing fatigue to dawn on her. Still, she can't give up now... _this is the final battle..._

"A-All right!" Esha stammers, ditched by the paramedic. "Hey, where are you... whoa!" Her last words are cut off as the red-and-white parachute falls on top of the chief's head.

* * *

CR-S01 and Tomoe Tachibana are still in the middle of the hopeless operation. Tomoe treats one blood pool and a spot of hemorrhaging, but more show up. When the field has finally been cleared, though, the black bruise remains, causing more and more untreated areas to show up. _It just... never... ends..._

The thundering of footsteps causes the two distracted surgeons to look up, and both of their hearts lighten as they see who is sprinting into the room at full speed, panting from her run.

"Maria!" CR-S01 and Tomoe cry simultaneously, but Maria cuts them off.

"Tomoe! The serum!" Maria yells, unable to keep her voice controlled. In her right hand, she clutches a vial of some sort of liquid: the serum extracted by Naomi from the Asclepias flowers. "Use this!"

Tomoe, not wasting time and breath for asking questions, beckons quickly for Maria to come forwards. "Quickly, set it into the endoscope!"

CR-S01 had already snatched the vial from Maria, though, his skills and reflexes just as fast as they are in the middle of an operation. "All right...!" he declares, obeying Tomoe's orders, and having spent many hours by Tomoe's side during endoscopic operations, he knows how to set a serum in. "It's good to go!"

"I'm starting the treatment at once!" Tomoe announces with an aura of determination raging and boiling from all around her, emitting a sense of fierce Tachibana blood inside, refusing to give way to any disease that threatens the path of honor. "Let's end this war!

And with that, Tomoe Tachibana throws herself back into the operation.

"The antiserum inhibits the Rosalia Virus' growth!" CR-S01 says, being the expert on the virus that he is. "It has no effect on areas that are already affected. "

"Understood." Tomoe responds, readying her endoscope. "I'll inject the serum after treating them."

"The colonies have begun to appear! Watch the vitals!" CR-S01 says, eyes fixed on the monitor.

"We won't lose! We will stop this virus!"

Tomoe sets her endoscope inside the patient and begins to move it through the lung tubes.

"All right! The antiserum is ready to use. Resume the treatment!" CR-S01 confirms.

"Indeed. Let's hurry!" Tomoe uses her practiced hand to guide the endoscope.

"The procedure will be just as I explained it before. The serum will not work on the affected areas that have already formed. Treat all the affected areas first, then inject the serum into the discolored area."

"I understand." Tomoe says, determination in her voice. "We'll win this fight, no matter what happens!"

Tomoe guides the endocscope into the nearest passageway. Immediately, she runs into one of the black areas, the walls covered with the blood, ulcers and lacerations covering the walls. Tomoe sets to work, using her drain, hemostatic forceps, and antiviral spray to treat the anomalies.

"The affected areas in this area are gone!" CR-S01 says. "Use the antiserum! Now!"

Tomoe quickly switches out the tools in her endoscope and injects the antiserum into the tunnel's walls. Instantly, the darkened walls begin to glow, and the infection seems to be sucked out of the tunnel.

"The antiserum! It's working! If we keep this up…" Tomoe says excitedly. Then, the blackened area seems to disappear altogether, leaving smooth tissue behind. Tomoe quickly repeats this procedure on the other blackened areas. After treating all affected areas, she pumps antiserum into the tissue, and the black tissue vanishes.

"The blackened area's gotten smaller! We can do this!" she says, determination written on her face. She makes her steady progress through the tunnels.

"This is the last discolored area!" CR-S01 finally remarks. "Hit it with the antiserum!"

"This is the last one," Tomoe agrees. "Leave us in peace!"

After a final pink glow, the infected tissue disappears for the last time. "The virus colony has disappeared completely. Operation complete!"

"We… we really treated her!" Tomoe says, grinning from ear to ear. "We really did it!"

"I've kept too high an opinion of myself," CR-S01 remarks.

"Why? What's the matter?" Tomoe asks.

"Oh, no, it came to me while watching you operate. I need to study more."

Tomoe turns her head, looking into CR-S01's eyes, but the heated crimson color seems to have faded to a dull, softer color, one that almost seems defeated or lost. Smiling softly, she can only celebrate with the rest of the doctors and hope that one day, the young criminal surgeon will find peace among what little is left of himself in this world.

"The vitals are stable," says Tomoe gently. "We're done. Operation complete."

Maria, who had been standing silently in the corner for the whole time, swallows down her final doubts of a true operation success. _If one person is cured... does that mean everyone else can be cured as well?_

"We... we did it?" she breathes. "We did it..." Laughing, grinning, and crying at the same time, she runs forwards and tackles Tomoe with a hug, no longer caring about how she is displayed in front of the other nurses in the room, no longer caring about embarrassing herself. All that matters is victory, the pure, sweet taste that will linger in her mind forever. "It's over! We won!"

"Whoa..." Tomoe gives a small squeak, but smiles. "H-Hey, Maria?"

In the distance somewhere, Emma and Darnell are also cheering with Maria and Tomoe, the heroes of this epidemic. Their cheers all drift away into nothingness... just as Albert Sartre had described... in CR-S01's mind. He doesn't say anything, doesn't do anything, merely stares ahead at Tomoe and Maria, laughing and cheering. The prisoner stays absolutely still, knowing that with his success, his freedom will end.

Soon.

But... while his sister and stepfather have been eradicated from this world, at least... they still live, within his memories. Memories that will never be stolen again. Finally, at peace, CR-S01 lowers his head slightly, and closes his eyes.

"It's over," he murmurs softly. "It's all over, Professor Sartre."

For the first time in eight long years, and perhaps, even longer, CR-S01 does the most unimaginable thing ever, one thing he had thought he'd never do ever since his imprisonment.

It's faint, it's weak, it's mild, but it's there. It's unbelievable, but it's still there.

CR-S01... smiles.

He is left at peace, thinking about his retrieved memories, and while they were ugly, it's better to keep them there, in their rightful place, something to hold onto back in prison. Happiness engulfs him for the first time in years, perhaps even decades, but it's short-lived and doesn't last long.

"Wooooah! He cracked a smile!" Maria laughs, running up to CR-S01's smiling figure. That's unheard of. "I didn't know you could!"

Almost immediately, CR-S01's smile fades and vanishes into his old scowl. "What the..." he starts, hands already protesting for him as he raises them slightly.

"Make up your mind!" Maria admonishes. "Are you happy or angry?"

The next scariest thing happens: everyone in the room starts to laugh, celebrating their victory, the first victory since the epidemic first began. Darnell, Emma, Maria, and Tomoe... all laughing hysterically, but in the midst of it all, even the criminal surgeon CR-S01 somehow manages to laugh along with them.

* * *

"Nice timing," Gabe smirks, standing on the roof, beady eyes glaring at Jacob Tillman before him. "I forgot to ask what you want on your tombstone."

The old Tillman would've scowled and swore, but the new one just chuckles. "I can't die. You owe me, remember?"

"Hey, easy," Gabe laughs. "I never want to look after a fogey like you again."

On the other side of the roof, something completely contrasting from the casual conversation of Gabe and Tillman's is happening; CR-S01 and Ian Holden stand, staring each other down.

CR-S01 speaks first, breaking the silence, all too aware of Gabe's stare on his back.

"I'm glad to see that you're all right," he says carefully.

"Surprised?" Holden chuckles.

"Don't worry," says CR-S01 lightly. "If anything happened, I'd operate on you." He almost smiles, but remembers the seriousness of this race: Holden is no longer a friend, but now, an enemy.

"That's a good sign," the FBI agent shrugs, not quite fitting CR-S01's description. "Ah, right, I had something to t-"

The rest of Holden's words are cut off by Maria Torres running – and coming to a stop – right between the two men. CR-S01 feels almost disappointed, because he senses that Holden was going to tell him something, but...

"Aha!" Maria grins. "There you guys are!"

"Don't hide over here and smile at each other!" Esha adds, cutting in between Maria and CR-S01, and as a matter of fact, neither men are smiling. "Join us!"

CR-S01 tries to move, but Esha blocks his way by an arm, joined by Maria. "Oh, no. You're not going _anywhere. _Start celebrating, dammit!"

"Maria," Tomoe laughs, catching up. "Please, don't push so much."

"Hey, keep it down, you numbskulls... this is still a hospital..."

Laughing, the scene on the roof is indeed something very surprising: Esha Patel and Maria Torres cutting off CR-S01's means of escape, laughing merrily, with Tomoe Tachibana, Gabriel Cunningham and Hank Freebird watching. In the back, Ian Holden and Jacob Tillman stay back, watching the fight in front of them, but enjoying every moment of rejoicing. It certainly does seem to look like a blast – but one person is evidently missing from the crowd: Naomi Kimishima.

* * *

I TOLD YA! CR-S01 IS A REGULAR HUMAN! (After Time For Rejoicing, he is)

Ahem, I know it's Darnell who did the creepy laugh, but I CAN'T HELP IT. Pretend that he laughed, even a leeeeeeetle bit? *puppy dog eyes*

And yes, I did have to throw a bittersweet light onto the end. Muahahaha.

(op by Aya)

~fk


	56. PZ: XII: Twisted Rosalia

**CHAPTER TWELVE  
**_Twisted Rosalia_

CR-S01

"I'm just a little bird. I can't possibly defeat a monster... how can I ever save this poor princess...?"

Naomi Kimishima strays by Alyssa's bedside, as she does so every night, reading her bedtime stories as she falls to a peaceful sleep. Ever since she gained full custody of Alyssa, she had treated her just like her own daughter, as any mother would do.

Now, Naomi's voice trails off as she sees that Alyssa's sheets are untucked, barely covering her upper body. With long fingers, Naomi gently lifts the covers to Alyssa's neck, and for a moment she is thrown in peace, watching her daughter sleep calmly, but then, it strikes her.

Pain. Burning hot, red slashes across her vision, Naomi knows that this is the end. Unable to collapse with Alyssa lying right there, she staggers out of her room quickly and lurches into the halls of Resurgam, still fully lit, orange and yellow walls almost glowing in the light. Unable to register anything, and unable to call for help, Naomi tries to get somewhere – anywhere – but the virus takes her first. The Rosalia Virus, finally emerging from where it had been thriving before, has activated at last, throwing Naomi into a pit of pain and distress as she reaches out, trying to scream for help, but something is crushing her lungs and she can't speak, only having one last thought before collapsing into unconsciousness, a blackness she may never escape from:

_Alyssa._

* * *

Sometime later, Nurse Emma Wilson happens to be on duty, and walks onto the collapsed figure of Naomi Kimishima. Surprise overcomes the young nurse's face, and she runs over. "Dr. Kimishima...? Miss Kimishima!"

She swallows, and checks her pulse, immediately knowing that something is wrong. "Someone, get a doctor!"

* * *

"Her heart is the affected area," says Tomoe briskly, walking down the corridors towards the operation room, Gabe right beside her. "Please, look at this."

"That idiot," Gabe curses, knowing that Naomi isn't dumb and stupidity is not one of her flaws, but... "Why didn't she notice before now?"

"She must have hidden it from everyone until this point," Tomoe suggests.

"Where's the kid?" Gabe demands, changing the subject and making a mental note to argue about it to Tomoe later – or better yet, command Naomi to tell him herself.

"He's preparing for the operation," says Tomoe, going with Gabe. "Maria will be assisting."

* * *

In the din of the operation room's sinks and faucets, CR-S01 washes off his hands, thinking deeply as he watches the flow of water rinse his hands and disappear down the sink.

"A superinfection?" he murmurs. In his head, he remembers the distant conversation he had had with Derek Stiles earlier, the man who diagnosed Naomi first.

"_Yes," he said. "She was infected with an unusual agent in the past. Most likely, the gene propagated into her cells, and was activated concurrently with the viral infection."_

"_So that means... it's an evolved form of the Rosalia Virus," CR-S01 replied, shuddering at the thought of his mutated remains of his sister. Bleakly, Derek Stiles had agreed._

Finishing up, CR-S01 reaches for the gloves and takes deep breaths, preparing himself for the nightmare operation coming up.

* * *

Tomoe and Gabe stand next to each other, eyes looking at the same spot: the operation room, waiting anxiously for the operation to start, for it to finish, to hear the news. They cannot have a hand in this operation, they can only stand back and watch, and pray that mercy will be granted to them and the tides will turn...

"Gabe! Tomoe!" Esha Patel runs down the corridor, having just heard the news herself, and behind her trails Hank Freebird, Little Guy, and Chief David Wayne.

"What's Dr. Kimishima's condition?" Hank demands, running up.

"It doesn't look good," Tomoe sighs, having seen the charts herself. "It's centered in the worse possible area."

"I-Is it Rosalia?" Hank asks, afraid of the answer.

"I don't know," Gabe answers. "But I've asked for some special help."

"Special help...?" Esha quotes.

"An old friend of mine," says Gabe, the smirk finally off his face, but the cigarette remains. "Don't worry. He's a great doctor." _Derek... we believe in you._

The six of them stand right behind the doors of the operation room: Tomoe, Esha, Gabe, Little Guy, Wayne, and Hank, each biding their time, waiting for results uneasily with growing stress, afraid of the result, afraid of the future, yet unable to fight for victory themselves.

"We've done all we can," Gabe murmurs. "All we can do now is pray for her health."

* * *

CR-S01 walks into the operation room, an isolated room of translucent green glass he is so familiar with. Hands now covered with gloves, he swallows, knowing that his comrades are out there, behind the door, waiting for his victory.

"_How should it be treated?" CR-S01 asked, over the phone._

"_To be honest, these materials can't tell me everything," Derek admitted. "But listen carefully, please. If the focus is as I predict..."_

CR-S01 swallows, knowing that this is it. The time he had been waiting for ever since Albert Sartre first adopted him as a son he never committed himself to, ever since he was put into and released from prison – even if it was only for a short time. All the operations he had performed so far have all worked up to this – the final battle between his sister and life.

"Are you ready?" he asks, raising his head, red eyes glazing into Maria Torres's green ones.

"Yeah," is Maria's fierce response. Both knew Rosalia. Both were close to her. Both will take act in the final battle to take her down.

_The past is gone, but life continues, _Ian Holden had once said to him. _My wife fought to the end to save all her students, just as the doctors here are doing, even now. But you... what are you doing?_

Back then, so long ago, CR-S01 hadn't had an answer, but now, he does, knowing that by winning this war, by saving Naomi's life, he will finally have something to fight for: a cause, a reason, to prove his innocence, to release him to the light he himself created.

"Life will continue..." CR-S01 breathes, raising his hands up to a new light, preparing for the dawn of a new era, a new age, a new world. "This is the final battle... let's begin!"

* * *

"The affected area is a giant virus colony located on her heart," CR-S01 says, after his grand proclamation, readying his tools for surgery. _Deep breaths, _he warns himself. _Stay calm. This is... Dr. Kimishima we're talking about..._

"What the hell is this?" Maria exclaims, looking at the readouts, just as caring as the doctor beside her, but not as calm. "It looks like a pupa…"

"Indeed," CR-S01 sighs, trying to remember what he still knows of the sweet little girl who used to be his sister. "It's formed an outer shell from mutated biofilm. Injecting the serum like this will have no effect on it." _Is this really something... that came from her? From Rosalia?_

"Wha…?" Maria is shocked, and realizes that this is a monster they're talking about, something very much unlike the colonies they had treated before. "Since the colony may explode, we can't use a syringe on it. But… Naomi isn't strong enough to use a heart-lung machine. Then what in the world are we supposed to do!" Panic begins to set into Maria's mind, because losing another accomplice does not exactly fancy to her.

"We're going to cut it out," the surgeon says matter-of-factly, as casual as if he were announcing the weather.

"What?" Maria practically explodes, eyes widening and incredulous. _Is he serious?_

"We'll start incising at the left atrium to remove the shell," he says briskly. "We'll then stop her heart and finish up before it's too late."

Maria gives a sigh of exasperation, knowing very well that CR-S01 is right, as there is no other way, and after all, he _is _the specialist. But still, "You're asking for one hell of a miracle."

"That's right." CR-S01 agrees heartily. "We're going to be working a miracle."

"You make it sound so easy." Maria rolls her eyes. "Fine. Let's make this happen!"

"Ah… Maria." CR-S01 is hesitant, eyes wandering everywhere: to the operating table, the tools lying beside it, the translucent windows... everywhere but Maria.

"Huh?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Thank you. It's because of you, I…" He trails off, uncertain of his choosing of words.

"Huh? I couldn't hear you. What'd you say?" Maria smiles, almost enjoying this.

"Now…" CR-S01 says, louder now, changing his mind. "Let's begin the operation!

Maria drops the matter, all serious now, and with that, the two doctors begin the final battle against the Rosalia Virus.

"I've made the initial incision… Opening her up!"

When they reach her heart, though, Maria is shocked by what she sees. "Hey… Don't tell me… is this?"

"The central area's hypertrophied." CR-S01 says wonderingly. Indeed, the center of the heart is oddly enlarged, swelling up past normal sizes. "Would it rip out her heart?"

Maria laughs nervously. "This is just ridiculous. There's a giant colony right in the middle of her heart!" Her voice gets oddly shrill, cracking at the end.

"Maria." CR-S01's calm voice breaks through her thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Get a grip on yourself. Please. I need your help."

Maria sighs. "Dammit… I know! I… wait… Oh, yeah!" She takes a shaky breath. "L-Let me confirm the procedure. Start with the left atrium."

"Then we'll treat the left ventricle, followed by the right atrium and ventricle." CR-S01 recites, continuing.

"Got it!" she says. "Hey… look." Maria takes another deep breath. "I need you, too. Don't let her die."

CR-S01 almost gives a small smile, as he had done just what seems like mere seconds ago. "Do I even need to respond to that? We're a team."

"Heh." Maria grins. "Come on, let's do it. Now _this _is the final battle!"

"Indeed." CR-S01 nods, readying himself. "Beginning the procedure! Making the incision into the left atrium to begin the surgery!"

When the two surgeons open up and have a look inside the heart, however, they're shocked by what they see. Even CR-S01 almost takes a small step back at the horrid sight of the monster hiding inside Naomi's heart. _Is this... really... all that's left of my sister?_

"It's huge!" Maria gasps. A huge sphere of hardened grey tissue surrounds the giant colony in the center, just a fragment of the whole nightmare. "This is really bad!"

"A new colony's begun to multiply on top of the hardened shell." CR-S01 notes calmly, though he is fighting for sanity. In the meanwhile, something more horrid is going on inside Naomi: a tiny offshoot of the virus sways gently with the beating of Naomi's heart, like an Asclepias flower in the breeze. The same one encountered in the operation CR-S01 had performed following his escape from Portland Prison. "They're going to continue reproducing more and more," he says grimly.

"We sure as hell can't let that happen!" Maria yells. Then, calmer, she softly asks, "What do we do?" All of this seems hopeless...

"First, we destroy the outer shell with the laser to expose it," says CR-S01, determination ringing in his voice, an inner voice reaching out to him, whispering to never give up. "We deal with the main body at that point."

"A-All right," Maria stammers, following his lead. "Don't forget to treat the multiplying colony as well!"

CR-S01 decides to do that first, using the drain to remove the mucus off of the colony. Then, using the syringe, he injects the vasoconstrictor, just as he had done... how long ago was it? Days? Weeks? Time seems to have blended into itself as the worries of the pandemic have risen and fallen.

"The vasoconstrictor's working!" Maria says, interrupting CR-S01's wandering mind. "Now use the orange deactivator."

When the deactivator is injected, the colony stiffens, as if in rigor mortis. "It's working!" Maria exclaims. "Now's our chance to excise it!"

The scalpel makes quick work of cutting away the colony. Using the forceps, CR-S01 removes the colony, pulling it out of Naomi's body. "All right. We don't have to worry about the pieces now," Maria sighs.

"Let's destroy the outer shell," he replies briskly. "Get the laser ready."

"All right. Keep using the laser on it," Maria directs. CR-S01 directs the laser beam around the shell, watching it turn red and shatter away.

"The outer shell has been destroyed. This colony is gigantic…" he murmurs.

Finally, the shell shatters under the force of the laser, disappearing into the unknowns it had come from. Setting down the laser, CR-S01 goes for the syringe.

"All right. The gelator is ready! Use the purple vial," says Maria, several beats late.

CR-S01 pumps the liquid into the inner colony. "The large colony has been injected with the gelator."

"The colony's activity is slowing!" Maria says excitedly, swallowing hard. "The gelator's working!"

"All right. We're done in the left atrium," CR-S01 sighs in relief, though the battle isn't even close to being finished yet. "Let's close up this part of her heart."

"We're finally done with one area. Let's move on," Maria commands as CR-S01 sutures the wound.

"The left ventricle is the next area," he recites. "We'll stay with a beating heart technique."

"Right," Maria nods. "Make the incision and let's begin!"

As CR-S01 makes the incision, Maria wonders what she will find in this part of Naomi's heart. It turns out, she was right to expect something worse.

"Dammit… I can't believe this! There are two colonies being created here!" she cries.

"No problem," CR-S01 responds calmly, though his own heart is hammering faster than ever. "We just have to treat everything here. We'll need to deal with the replicating colonies before attacking the shell."

Quickly, just as before, the doctors get to work on the colonies, first using the drain, then the syringe, then the forceps to quickly remove the virus.

"The deactivator's taken effect. Beginning the excision using the scalpel."

Using the scalpel and forceps, CR-S01 makes short work of removing the colonies. Soon, they're back to burning off the colony's protective shell with the laser.

"Good. Destroy it all!" Maria coaches.

But this time, all does not go as smoothly with the removing of the shell. When the pieces break off, they explode outward, cutting lacerations in the soft tissue.

"Dammit. The heart's been wounded! Make sure you suture it!"

CR-S01 injects the gelator first, though, not taking any chances with the giant virus colony, while Maria watches the vitals. "Her condition isn't stabilizing! We have to treat the other areas!"

"The gelator has been injected," he informs her a moment later, caught up in the tenseness of the operation. "What's the patient's condition?"

"She's not stabilizing yet." Maria watches the monitor anxiously. "Dammit… is she going to be all right?"

"We can't rest until we've completed treating her entire heart." CR-S01 doesn't make any promises, but he doesn't seem to be too worried, so Maria decides to focus on the operation. Then again, he hardly never is worried. "Let's treat these remaining wounds and move on to the next section of her heart."

He quickly drains the colony pieces and sutures the wounds the colony made. "Let's close it up. Hand me the sutures."

"Just two more to go!" Maria whispers. "Stay strong, Naomi!" _Don't die on us... we need you, Dr. Kimishima!_

"Opening the right atrium." CR-S01 continues. "Prepare the scalpel for incision."

"We don't know what'll happen." Maria cautions, a rare occasion for her to hold back before another battle. "Let's be careful in there!"

Once inside, she gasps as predicted, eyes trembling at the sight in front of her, the nightmarish version of the Rosalia Virus she had treated before.

"Why?" she groans. "Why have so many colonies been created?" This time, there are three new colonies growing off the main virus, wobbling off the edges of giant colony.

"It's evolving," CR-S01 states firmly, already beginning the treatment.

"E-Evolving?" A surprised Maria asks.

"It's absorbed a different virus's DNA and is constantly mutating," he says, being the expert on the subject, but completely clueless on Naomi's disease, the one that had threatened her life before Twisted Rosalia took over... "Now it's creating a new form to adapt to its new environment. It's natural."

"Huh? But…!"

"It may be natural, but we don't have to accept it," he corrects himself, never giving up, refusing to give up, relentlessly fighting this horrid battle. "I will eliminate this! Let's do it!"

It's the same procedure as before, plus an extra colony to deal with. Drain the mucus, inject the vasoconstrictor, then the deactivator, and the colonies are ready to remove. Soon, CR-S01 is back to aiming the laser at the shell, shattering it from the intense heat.

"Good! Keep going! Give it what it deserves!" Then, a second later, after the shell explodes again, "Tch. You'll need to extract the shell pieces."

CR-S01 injects the gelator, extracts the broken shards of the shell, and sutures the wounds it made. As he works, somewhere in the back of his subconscious, his inner soul silently eats away the last of his sister. _How... can Rosalia... so sweet, so innocent, so young... be evolved into something as dangerous as this?_

As he works, hands turning into something completely different, he prepares himself for the time to come to completely eradicate the few remains of Rosalia Rossellini from this world. Getting ready to move on to the fourth and final section of the heart before finally getting rid of the virus once and for all, he sutures up the incision and watches it join the other two incisions made earlier.

"This is the last area," Maria reminds him quietly, mirroring his thoughts. "Once we deal with this one…"

"Let's stay on our toes," CR-S01 agrees. "Scalpel!"

One swift motion with his nimble fingers, and he says, "Incision complete. This is it. Let's do this!"

Once inside the heart, CR-S01 sighs, matching Maria's gulp disappearing down her throat. "Ngh… There's so many of them! Can we treat them all?"

For this time, there are not two, not three, but four mutated virus colonies growing off the main body. It looks so hopeless, yet the virus seems more helpless than usual, as it

"I believe in you," Maria assures him. "I'm sure you can do it."

"Right." He reasserts himself. "I know what you mean. I'll save her, no matter what!"

Repeating the original procedure times four, it takes longer, but soon the colonies are ready to be excised. Using the forceps, he deftly removes the excised colonies and returns with the laser.

"The colony piece exploded and made a bruise!" Maria exclaims. "Inject the antiserum… pink vial!"

CR-S01 does that, and injects the gelator into the huge colony. But soon…

"Damn! A piece of the colony exploded!" Maria stares at the shards of colony wall. "Use the antiserum!"

Then, again. "Tch… Another black bruise has formed! We have to remove the shell pieces immediately!"

After treating a count of eight lacerations, six shards of colony wall, and three Rosalia bruises, the final syringes of gelator disappears into the last quarter of the giant colony. Realizing that after this step will be the most crucial and most heart-wrenching one, CR-S01 begins to sutures up the incision with despair.

"This is it," Maria says grimly, watching him suture.

"Right," he agrees bleakly. "I'm closing up here, then moving on to extracting the giant colony."

Several tense seconds later, he stares at the center of the heart in grim anticipation. This is the last part of the heart they hadn't cut out yet, but it's where the bulge is most noticeable, the heart of Twisted Rosalia. _So this... is all... that's left of Rosalia... reduced to nothing but a shell..._

"The main body's in here, right?" Maria asks nervously. It's funny how if they lose, it's not them who will die but someone else... dead, at their hands...

"Yes," says CR-S01 mutely. "Making an incision to expose the affected area."

He carefully uses the scalpel to make the incision, right over the main body of Twisted Rosalia. "Incision complete. This is it."

Maria stares, eyes wide open, at the monster inside Naomi's heart. "This… It's the main body of the Rosalia virus, but mutated…" Her voice shakes, wonder and horror-struck at what she sees, the nightmare that will haunt her for eternity.

The creature is curled, like a millipede after a scare. Its skin is a mottled mixture of greys, blacks, and reds. It seems to be like a snake, curled into a ball, deep inside the tissue. Twisted Rosalia is still and frozen, a baby serpent asleep in the heart, just like Rosalia Rossellini herself asleep in the flowers... but this nothing like it. Rosalia died in a carpet of blue death, while her twisted form rests in the center of Naomi's heart, in colors beyond the beautiful blue that had adorned Rosalia herself.

"We really are gonna do this, right?" Maria looks to CR-S01 for support, her voice shaky.

"Right." CR-S01's voice is determined, not at all intimidated by the creature in front of him, though it troubles him greatly. "The cardioplegic solution is ready for us. Injecting that will stop her heart."

"All right. Let's go over the procedure one last time." Maria says, nervousness creeping into her voice, and while it will be CR-S01 performing the actual excision, it will depend on her tell inform him of vitals and Naomi's condition – especially in cardiac arrest.

"When we inject the solution, the heart will stop and we can excise the membrane," CR-S01 patiently explains one last time, hoping desperately that this will be the last time he will have to go through this – not just now, during the operation, but in the future too. "After membrane extraction, we'll inject concentrated antiserum into the main body. Got it?"

"Yeah," she replies shakily. "There's never been a heart-stopping operation performed without a heart-lung machine." Her tone turns desperate. "Please… we've got to finish everything before Naomi passes on."

"Let's begin," says CR-S01 shortly, wanting to finish up things before he truly loses the nerve. "I'm a doctor. Saving lives is my purpose…" he reminds himself. _Save lives..._

He injects the cardioplegic solution. Almost immediately, the vitals on the screen flatline. Normally, this would be a cause for panic, but CR-S01 seems unnaturally calm, his years as a surgeon finally settling in and causing his motor skills to improve as he is thrown into a world in which no one exists apart from himself, the patient, and occasionally Maria. "Scalpel!"

As quickly as this delicate work will allow, CR-S01 cuts along the outer body of the creature, removing the membrane protecting it from the outside world. "Forceps!"

Using the forceps to extract the membrane, he pulls the clear tissue carefully off of the monster beneath.

"Now… injecting the serum," he breathes quickly, stretching out a hand for the syringe.

He injects the antiserum into the body of the Rosalia virus. So much work has gone into the making of this serum… even his sister's life; it was her blood that created the virus that threatens Naomi's life now, and it's also her blood that will defeat it... _this is just a mad game of fighting fire with fire_.

When the creature doesn't respond to the first syringe of the serum, CR-S01's eyes narrow in anger and frustration. Naomi's vitals continue to drop at a fast rate, now hovering at a 30, and he raises them to a higher rate of 70 before saying, "Ngh… we're not done yet, you monster... Injecting more serum!"

He holds the syringe above Twisted Rosalia's body, somehow knowing that with this time, Rosalia will cease to exist, forever. This is it... the last battle between himself and his sister. It seems so unreal that such a deadly thing can be so small yet so fatal, coming from someone like his own sister. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Holden's words come back to him, spoken so long ago yet staying so permanently in his mind. It had come back to him at night, during daytime, spoken in its ghostly whisper at times of terror, like now... the world seems to go in slow motion as CR-S01 presses down on the plunger.

_The past is gone, but life continues. _Rosalia is dead. Gone. He has to accept that.

_My wife fought to the end to save all of her students, just as the doctors here are doing, even now. _Everyone had fought – with bravery and courage that can counteract any disease. Everyone fought to the end, sacrificing their time and their health to save those in need...

_But you... what are you doing? _Swallowing hard, CR-S01 finally realizes that by doing something, stepping up for the last and final battle... _Ian Holden, this is what I'm doing... I always run, from whatever sins I may have committed... I won't run anymore, from the lives I have hurt, or from the ones I can save!_

The syringe empties, and the snake-like thing writhes in agony, uncurling out from itself, stretching to fill the space it has created for itself. Its death cry sounds high, like a hurt animal.

"This… will be the end! Begone!"

Slowly, painfully, it lays down its monstrous head for the last time. With a blinding flash of white light, it dissolves away into dust, leaving behind no trace that it ever existed, except in the memories of the doctors who fought so hard to keep it at bay. Twisted Rosalia ceases to exist from the world, blasted into nothingness for long last.

"The mutant Rosalia has… disappeared." Maria says wonderingly. "Is it… over?"

_It's just as Albert Sartre had said, _CR-S01 muses as he, too, stares at the space that Twisted Rosalia used to occupy. _Everything... is nothingness. You too, one day... I'm sorry, Rosalia. The two of you suffered for what I did._

"Treatment complete," he confirms softly. "The procedure… was a success."

"We… we really saved her!" Maria almost laughs, but her voice is wobbling as she remembers that the operation isn't quite over yet. "Oh, right! Sutures!"

But CR-S01 has already sutured the wound before Maria reacts to her mistake, closing the incision, and praying that it will never have to be opened again.

"Oh… you're done suturing it? S-Sorry!" Maria says distractedly.

"Yeah," he replies softly. "Closing the operation area. You should rest a bit. It's almost over. Let's close the curtain on this."

CR-S01 stitches up the opening incision, bandaging the wound, shaky hands struggling to stay steady enough to complete the final step in his procedure of keeping Naomi alive. "Operation complete."

* * *

In the control room, everyone watches the operation being performed on the screens before them. People of every kind gather around the screens, giving their displays undivided attention, holding their breaths as they wait for the outcome.

Some watch with relief, their eyes softening from the hardening they had gone through, hands falling in the reassurance that Naomi will survive through this operation.

Some watch with terror still at their sides every minute, unable to believe that this is true, that Naomi is safe, always expecting the horrid monster to leap out of her any second, but their breathing eases gradually as time passes and nothing happens.

Some simply stand there in shock, unable to process what had just happened, eyes wide and staring at the screens, not daring to believe that Naomi is truly alive, their brains frozen as reality spins before them, an endless stretch of time that will move on.

Invisible to everyone, hidden from everyone but Maria and Naomi, Rosalia Rossellini lingers by everyone's side, watching the operation happen, watching her essence being erased from the world, the virus that was cultivated from her blood. Allowing her wave of white hair to wash over her like a cloak, Rosalia waits in anticipation, awaiting the results, for her release from this world...

But everyone – the young, the old, the strangers, the friends – all hear CR-S01's next words, signalling the end of the battle, once and for all. The phrase commonly heard by everyone, the phrase that had gone through everyone's mind and remained there, a phrase that will linger forever in the memory of those who were present to here it. CR-S01's whisper drifts across the room, carrying the sigh of relief with it:

"_Let this disease pass from this world..."_

* * *

Oh, fun fun fun. Sorry, I made up the end. There had to be some sort of bridge between Twisted Rosalia and The Seventh Doctor, ya know.

Op written by Aya, as usual. :)

Twisted Rosalia... *sigh* I almost, almost, ALMOST put in Rosalia's GUILT in there. Any of you heard it? The piano melody, known as Lights of Life in the official OST (but of course, unofficial is better. Sounds SO much better).

Who thinks Rosalia's Thorns should've done a better track for Twisted Rosalia than Twisted Rosalia itself? *Rosalia's Thorns fades* *Twisted Rosalia comes onto iTunes* Well, that's coincidence...

Anyways, ONE LAST CHAPTER (EPILOGUE) TO GO! Yay! Happy birthday, mf!

~fk


	57. PZ: Epilogue: The Seventh Doctor

**EPILOGUE  
**_The Seventh Doctor_

In sleep, Naomi Kimishima looks years younger than she is supposed to be, like a small child waiting for the sun to rise, for the dawn to come, to escape from the isle of nightmares and wake to the real world. Today, Naomi is like that little child, waking to a brighter day.

Beside her, Tomoe Tachibana waits, reading a book as she listens to the steady rhythm of Naomi's breathing. The past few weeks have been extremely terrorizing... Tomoe knows the feeling, the shock of seeing that virus colony for the first time, that mass black bruise eruption... but now, it's safe. Everyone is cured. Peace has settled, at last.

Hours pass, and the sun rises to its midmorning position, casting a ray of sunlight across Naomi's face. As if on cue, her eyes slowly blink open, a small action not missed by the young endoscopic surgeon.

"You're awake," Tomoe smiles warmly. "How do you feel?"

Naomi's lips barely move, and her eyes are only open to slits, but the croak that emerges from her throat is audible all the same: "I'm... alive...?"

_Alive. _The word seems foreign to her, completely alien and unforgiving. Naomi's past year has been full of chaos, preparing for death, waiting for the day for blackness to overwhelm and engulf her completely. _Alive. _The opposite of dead, the feeling she has completely forgotten about ever since those pains started coming... _alive. _For the first time since she first heard the news, Naomi Kimishima truly feels the feelings of being alive.

"Yes," says Tomoe, confirming Naomi's question. "The focus on your heart was removed. You're safe."

"I see..." Naomi breathes, still trying to compensate with the tide of feelings being washed over her. Tiredly, she tries to adjust to the brightness of the room, barely strong enough to talk, but still able to choke out the one thing she must know before she finds out about herself, and the miracle that had come to her: "And... the others...?"

"Same as usual," she shrugs, swallowing down her happiness and tears of joy, and to focus on welcoming Naomi to the light of a new day. "It's like this whole thing was a bad dream."

Naomi lies there in peace, finally left alone by the virus that used to thrive in her heart, devouring her essence, just another mere speck of dust in this world... but every speck of dust _counts _in the universe, and every speck of dust saved is a life saved, a cause for humanity to fight for. She is one of the specks of dust. She is one of the lucky ones, one of the saved ones. Lying there, barely breathing in the shock of trying to absorb it all, Naomi Kimishima truly realizes the value of life: all the autopsies she had performed – on Dennis Taylor, Veronica Cage, Alma Parker, Abby Parker, Aidan Posner, Stephen Eldred, and eventually Rosalia Rossellini – those were the dead, lost souls, with no one to turn to. Naomi is _alive_, one granted with the gift of life.

Life holds a completely different meaning now, when it had been torn away from her savagely and given back with mercy. Clutching on to it and never letting go, Naomi lies still, listening to Tomoe's soft and warm words, casting a sigh of relief over both of them.

"Maria's fighting with the paramedics, like always," Tomoe explains. "Dr. Freebird's being twisted around his patient's finger. I... don't think there's much to say about Dr. Cunningham... and lastly... _he _went back to prison. But... it seems his circumstances have changed somewhat." She smiles again, remembering the news coming to her that CR-S01 will continue to operate to work down his sentence – his vow to atone for the sins he never committed, or ones he committed unknowingly or unwillingly.

"I see," says Naomi quietly. Somehow, she finds the strength in herself somewhere to sit up, as if life is taking back the resources that failed her previously. Naomi Kimishima is alive, and moving, and breathing, but her eyes are downcast and filled with the melancholy bittersweet gaze, and the light that used to glaze Little Guy so much is nonexistent. Right now, Naomi is only another patient recovering from an operation, no longer the crisp, brisk forensics examiner she used to be.

For one merciful moment, Naomi is given a sense of peace and calming, after all the troubles she had been torn through since her banishing from Japan. But the devil takes it all back, and in one fell swoop, Naomi remembers... that everything isn't over yet. The lifelong disease she has... unlike Twisted Rosalia... hasn't been eradicated yet. Until that is eliminated from her body, which, according to Derek Stiles, is next to impossible, Naomi will not have much time left to enjoy the light of the world. Her shoulders sag as the horrid truth is dumped on her, and suddenly, Naomi remembers Alyssa, who would be torn apart if Naomi lived through one disease but died of another... perhaps there is a way to avoid her suffering...

As if on cue, Tomoe's eyes close softly and she starts talking again in a calm, subdued way. "This world may be brief, but to reject it is dishonorable."

"Huh...?" Naomi whispers, still unable to cope with things, the difficult situation she is in right now. _I... will soon die... anyways... why tell Alyssa that?_

"You can't give up," says Tomoe comfortingly. "There's someone who still needs you."

"I know," Naomi replies quietly, knowing exactly what Tomoe is talking about. Her blue eyes have never been more empty, and the first tears start brimming as the pain – not physical, but emotional – gently ebbs at her heart, eating away the ghost of her sanity... "Even if it is only for a little while longer."

"I don't know about that."

Tomoe's reply is so unexpected and it is something that even Naomi hadn't foresaw, something that challenges the undeniable truth. Naomi's eyes widen, looking at Tomoe with her undivided attention, raising her head to meet Tomoe's gaze. Surprise overcomes her face, taking over everything, and nothing more can be as shocking as this: to be rescued from the fate of ailments twice... is too good to seem to be true.

"What...?" The word escapes Naomi's mouth through a whole series of tumbling thoughts and facts trying to push themselves in order, separating themselves from the myths she had believed for so long.

"Dr. Kimishima," says Tomoe strongly yet in a joyful way, "The dormant genetic disease you had has completely vanished."

"What're you saying?" Naomi breathes, not daring to believe it, not daring to let her hopes plummet yet again, but... why would Tomoe lie to her? "I mean, I'm..."

"You're not going to die," Tomoe smiles as she leans in from her position on her chair. "We believe that your cells... their disease factor was expelled by the Rosalia Virus."

Uncontrollably, Naomi starts shaking out of the sudden blow, the eucatastrophe that has taken an event in her troubled life. _Life. _She can finally have it back, now, after years of struggles to get it back with no avail. She has gone through Delphi, gone through Caduceus Europe, gone through CIFM... finally, here, at Resurgam First Care, is where she is finally rescued from her burden... this is where she finds life. "That means... I'm...!"

"Dr. Kimishima, I have a message form all of us who helped you," says Tomoe mildly, about to deliver the full news. "There may be relapse. There's no way to know the future... but still... we want you to keep looking forward to living your life."

By now, Naomi is trembling from head to toe, unable to stop shaking, the spite of life finally coming to her, about to be given to her without further complications... _That means... I'm... alive...!_

"Naomi!"

Naomi's heart skips a beat as she hears the voice calling her name: not her own, not Tomoe's, but from the small voice coming from the door that was shoved open a second earlier... Hesitantly, as if really not believing it, Naomi Kimishima turns her head and the tears now spill from her eyes, as she sees who it is.

"Alyssa...!"

Alyssa, head still bound with bandages from the bombs, one eye still patched over, is the cause why Naomi is here, right now, alive and moving. The young girl's eyes droop in relief, and she runs forwards, wrapping Naomi in a hug with her small arms.

"Thank you..." Naomi sobs, unable to control her tears, holding onto Alyssa's thin and fragile frame tightly. "Thank you so much...!"

The two, wrapped in an embrace of each other, grasps each other firmly, basking in the final truth that both of them would live on their normal lives, and never be torn apart from each other again. Naomi Kimishima and Alyssa Breslin have finally found their place – next to each other – in the reunion of mother and daughter.

**-END-**

* * *

I'M SORRY FOR THE LAME ENDING, OKAY? I couldn't think of anything better. :(

Author's note coming soon! By the way, if anyone wants me to do the EXTRAS, drop a review requesting for it and maybe I'll do it. Okay, fine, I will do it. *sighs* Later, though.

The last part with the whole Seventh Doctor thing comes up in a day or two. mockingjayfire's writing and it and she's slightly... behind schedule. But for now...

_Your heroism places us all in your debt. You truly are the 7th member of the Trauma Team._


	58. Extra: CRS01

**EXTRAS**_**  
**CR-S01_

"Something's not right..." the demonic, red-eyed surgeon stomps around his large cell, unsatisfied with the performance he has been displaying. Frustration crackles behind his gaze, threatening to burst into an inferno any second.

CR-S01 takes a deep breath, raising his head towards the sky, or rather, where the sky should be, but right now is just a slab of metal, put there to conceal him from the outside world. It had been torn away from him mercilessly, and given back grudgingly. His life has taken a serious turn for the best, and now, the rest of his life will be devoted to performing operations to work down his 250-year-sentence, and, of course, to save lives.

But one problem has always gotten into the way... no matter how hard CR-S01 tries, his blank expression always unsettles his unnerving patients. Ever since the previous operation when things had gone very wrong indeed, CR-S01 has a new goal set in mind: attempt to act normal. Even if it's just this once.

Taking a deep breath, he goes for it again, trying to remember how Tomoe and Hank always do it, so calm and friendly and reassuring. Three things that will never belong to him naturally.

"Hi, I'm your surgeon," he says, closing his eyes slowly, remembering Tomoe's kindhearted words. "I will be operation on you today..."

CR-S01's voice trails off as he hears the tension, the obvious acting hidden behind his voice. Slouching, he rests his forehead against an icy wall. "That's not it either... Hi, I'm..."

Groaning at the result, CR-S01 doesn't even bother to finish the sentence, and whirls around, narrowing his eyes in the building anger, taking out his fury at the cold, metal walls around him. "Why is this _smiling_ thing so difficult?" he spits.

How had he smiled all those days before, after that first successful Rosalia Virus operation? _How? _CR-S01 tries to remember those blurry memories, but all he gets are ones of Tomoe and Hank, the two people he had actually bothered to learn from. With no avail. They are sitting in comfy Resurgam First Care, and he is sitting in a fridge.

Coming to a realization, CR-S01 raises his head slowly. "Wait... maybe this environment's the limiting factor?"

Walking around unconsciously, he trails his fingers along the walls as he goes. "This cell's always maintained at zero degrees Celsius... human muscle expands and contracts to produce heat... so if it's cold, muscles tighten to maintain body heat!"

Sighing in frustration, CR-S01 realizes the meaning behind the words he had just said: "Ngh...! I can't believe it! _My smiles are so stiff because of the cold temperatures!"_

Storming around his cell, CR-S01 slumbers out of his tantrum and collapses on the bench he has sat on for eight years before being partially released. He is no longer chained, but his freedom is restricted, in return of doing one thing, the very objective he is murmuring right now: "But a truly skilled doctor gives relief to his patients..."

Summoning up what little is left of his patience, CR-S01 breathes, "Alright, once more! I must perfect the ultimate smile!"

Standing up, and looking at an imaginary patient dead in the eyes, he attempts to smile and waves his hand in greeting. "Hi, I'm-"

But before he can finish, the all-too-familiar hissing sound reaches CR-S01's ears, and his brain is suddenly frozen, unable to think, to process what is happening, to think about what to do next. By the time he has come to a realization, Ian Holden simultaneously walks into the cell, catching CR-S01 red-handed, a goofy grin on his face and hand raised in a frozen greeting.

The two stare at each other; CR-S01, unable to break out of his frozen smile, stands very still, realizing how stupid he must look; Holden, his eyes bugging out wide from behind his sunglasses, trying to resist the urge to do a facepalm right there and now.

He does it anyways.

"What in the _world _are you _doing?" _Holden groans from behind his hand. Now, Holden has caught plenty of criminals, and has seen them crying, howling, scratching walls, pulling at bars, and plenty of ridiculous actions, but has never seen someone smile and wave to an _imaginary patient _in an _imaginary world, _especially if he is a surgeon who saved _all of America _and possible _all of the world._

CR-S01 weakly lowers his hand, stuttering, "H-Hi, I'm a surgeon."

At least Holden isn't imaginary.

But the FBI agent only gives a long sigh, and turns back towards the door. "Quit goofing off. You better be ready for surgery next week."

Holden walks through the doors, and they bang shut behind him. CR-S01 stand there, downcast, trying to figure out the next thing to do.

"Dammit... I need someone better than him to practice on!"

* * *

*silence*

Well, this should be interesting.

I say the audio version was funnier. Oh well.

So, how long as it been? 20 days? Whatever, my final exams are over so HELL YEAH FREE TIME! I'll try to get Albert and Rosalia's done by tomorrow, mkay? No, I'm not going in order for the extras. They're EXTRAS. I do 'em whenever I want.

~fk


	59. Extra: Gabriel Cunningham

**EXTRAS  
**_Gabriel Cunningham_

"Now... this part's the most important, RONI. I need your support." Gabriel Cunningham's voice is steady and serious as he awaits for RONI's instructions.

"Understood, Doctor," RONI replies, in her arrogant voice, as always. After a short pause, she says, "First, crack an egg into a bowl."

"A bowl?" Gabe blinks, surprised, and looks around. A messy coffee table, a messy desk, a messy bookshelf – several of them, actually, and a messy office to begin with. Books stacked on top of books that are teetering on top of half-broken cardboard boxes, Gabe's office definitely isn't your ideal kitchen. "I don't have anything that lying around..."

"Requisite utensils for this recipe are insufficient," RONI scolds sternly. "Would you like to prescribe a different dish to make?"

"No!" says Gabe quickly, one finger outstretched, eyes gleaming. "It's all about flexibility. We just need a container..."

Gabe shuffles over to the corner of his office, and begins tearing apart the boxes and shelves. After tossing out six expired milk cartons, a half-dozen handful of chocolate bar wrappers, nine books, two packages of disposable paper cups, and an empty glass jar, he emerges out of the mess, object in hand.

"This should do... right?"

"Dr. Cunningham, that is a beaker."

"I know," Gabe snaps. "Tell me how to make scrambled eggs with a beaker!"

RONI's speakers begin to hum as she searches for a match. A beeping error sound later, she says, "I find nothing in my database that matches that instrument."

"What?" Gabe howls, jaw dropping to the floor, hands tearing his hair apart. "It's the same thing! Just adjust the container size!"

"Understood, Doctor," says RONI, calm as always. "Please specify your search criteria."

"Hey, man," Gabe scowls, ignoring the fact that RONI has no gender, and even if she did, it would most likely be female. "I just want something to eat! Do you have any idea what it's like to be on an empty stomach?"

Silence.

"I do not, Doctor. Only humans experience hunger."

"GAAAAAAAAH!" Gabe screams marching away as far as possible from RONI as he can. "You know, you really get on my nerves some days..."

Gabe's stomach is audibly heard growling throughout the room, and his complaints follow. "Urgh... my stomach... I'm not gonna... make it..."

With a crash, Gabe falls to ground, and everything fades into darkness.

* * *

*silence*

You know, I think I'll go back to watching CR scream "root beer".


	60. Author's Note

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

_fighterkirby1998_

Well, we're finally done. The mega 57-chaptered story has FINALLY been brought to a standstill, resting at a word count of… something. Not including the author's note, to be honest, I have zero idea. Haven't done a complete word count yet.

Anyways, after several months, I never expected to receive a word count of over 150000. To be honest, I expected something ultra-lame, like 50000 words or something. But… I'm still on an editing plan, and I already have a word count goal for each chapter; in the end, I expect something like 220000 words or even more. All I can say is, thank you, to everyone who reviewed, as listed below:

BloodyRosalia, DreamVII, fantasyreader123, X. Vesper-Lestrange, TwistedJabberjays (also known as mockingjayfire), lavender39, Idochine Ramera, CahillTribute39, Nyaro, disneytiger, PXLight, kadabrafreak890, Magic Detective, and Surgical Rose.

Thanks, guys, making a grand total of 58 reviews so far! Without you guys, I never would've had the nerve to keep going on and writing, because of this, I sacrificed a lot of my homework time (which was made up at school during break/lunch/bus ride) because... well, this will sound weird, but writing this was almost my entire life for these three and a half months. But I don't have to let go of it. Yet.

In case if you're wondering if this is truly complete… no!

I know, I know, the status says complete. But hey, the chapters I'm planning to add on… aren't called EXTRAS for nothing. From now on, I will be working on CR-S01, Maria, Gabe, Tomoe, Hank, Naomi, and Rosalia's extra scenes, and I've got an editing plan for The Complete Edition worked out, as mentioned above.

So, the long story has drawn to a close. I realize that I've left out some scenes and made up some others, and I'll get around to fixing the left-out scenes (notably The Masked Prisoner, very end of Wandering Girl, etc.) and… well…

Remember, reviews are always appreciated! Thanks, for being long supporters of TCE, and remember, whenever you see a Monarch butterfly… run.

_mockingjayfire_

When I started this fic, I was positively sure I'd actually get something done. Well done to fighterkirby1998 - she really did the bulk of the work. I'm sorry I couldn't have done more (school) and I hope to be more productive in future fanfictions.

Message to fk: I'm working on it.

_fantasyreader123_

Hiya, everyone! I cannot BELIEVE we're finally done. I remember when FK first sent me the first couple of chapters to TCE before she had a account for this...I got hooked on it. And basically kept bugging her for the next few months to write. And write some more. And MORE. Uh-oh...GTG. Finish this later.


End file.
